January 03, 2014

“It’s impossible to walk from this book not thinking differently about things.”

That's what Weston Cutter of Corduroy Books said in his review of The Power of Glamour, and it's a theme that comes up again and again in comments about the book. “Reading this book made me look differently at the role glamour has played in my own life,” wrote Leslie Camhi in The New York Times Book Review.

Reading the book gave Kate Bolick an explanationfor why she loves the Vermont Country Store catalog but never wants to visit the real store. It gave Autumn Whitefield-Madrano insight into a beauty puzzle: "If women’s magazines make women feel so bad about themselves, why do we continue to buy them?" For Ken Silber it crystallized a unifying theme in what he likes "to write and read about, what sorts of art and design I tend to enjoy."

It might change how you think too. And to celebrate the new year, I'm giving away three signed copies of The Power of Glamour. To enter, post a comment on my blog at vpostrel.com, telling me why you should win one. I'll pick winners on January 10. My decisions are final and they may be arbitrary or random. You do not have to be a U.S. resident to enter.

November 11, 2013

Military glamour is among the most ancient forms. From Achilles, David, and Alexander through knights, samurai, admirals, and airmen, warriors have been icons of masculine glamour, exemplifying courage, prowess, and patriotic significance.

In the half century leading up to the end of World War I, warfare was also one of the first contexts in which English speakers used the term glamour in its modern metaphorical sense. (The word originally meant a literal magic spell that made people see things that weren't there.)

“Military heroes who give up their lives in the flush and excitement and glamour of battle,” opined a U.S. congressman in 1885, “are sustained in the discharge of duty by the rush and conflict of physical forces, the hope of earthly glory and renown.” A 1917 handbook on army paperwork was “dedicated to the man behind the desk, the man who, being away from the din and glamor of battle, is usually denied popular favor, yet who clothes, feeds, pays, shelters, transports, and otherwise looks after the man behind the gun.” (Whether in warfare or business, logistics is the quintessential “unglamorous” but critical support activity.)

European nations began World War I with a glamorous vision of war, only to be psychologically shattered by the realities of the trenches. The experience changed the way people referred to the "glamour of battle," treating it no longer as a positive quality but as a dangerous illusion. In 1919, the British painter Paul Nash wrote that the purpose of The Menin Road, his bleak portrait of a desolate and blasted landscape, was “to rob war of the last shred of glory[,] the last shine of glamour.” Briefly conscripted in 1916, D. H. Lawrence lamented “this terrible glamour of camaraderie, which is the glamour of Homer and of all militarism.” An American writing in 1921 asked fellow veterans of the Great War, “Are you going to tell your children the truth about what you endured, or gild your reminiscences with glamour that will make them want to have a merry war experience of their own?” In the 1920s, pacifism, not battle, became glamorous.

In her ground-breaking 1939 book America at the Movies, Margaret Thorp recounted one example of the era's glamorous pacifism:

Deanna Durbin is a pacifist. She showed a reporter her school history book with a paragraph which she had underlined with red pencil. “It was Nicholas Murray Butler’s estimate that for the money spent on the World War every family in ten countries could have had a $2,500 house, $1,000 worth of furniture, several acres of land [and so on]. ‘Isn’t it dreadful?’ said Deanna. ‘Not so much the money, as the millions of people killed.’” Ten years ago such a statement would not have added to the glamour of a youthful star, but at least it is safely away from present conflicts.

Within a few years, Durbin was a favorite of British troops and reportedly of Winston Churchill as well. Just as World War I punctured the glamour of battle, the Nazi advance largely did away with the glamour of pacifism.

The promise of escape and transformation is an essential element of glamour and the subject of chapter three of my book. The connection between glamour and escape is one reason transportation vehicles figure so prominently in its iconography.

In the 20th century, particularly during the period between the World Wars, glamour, escape, speed, modernity, and “the future” were all connected in the public imagination. I argue in chapter seven that, in fact, glamour provided a way for people to figure out what modernity meant and how they felt about it.

In the 1950s and ’60s, glamorous visions of transportation technology offered a more speculative version of “futuristic” escape that still sparks longings today.

No discussion of futuristic glamour and escapism is complete without a little Star Trek. (See this Bloomberg View column for more on the nature of Star Trek's glamour.)

All photos and quotes are from The Power of Glamour, to be published November 5 by Simon & Schuster. If you pre-order the book and email me your info at vpostrel@gmail.com (be sure to use this address not my DeepGlamour address), I'll send you a signed book plate.

September 30, 2013

Somehow, Halloween has become controversial. We now have rending public debates about costumes that are too risqué, trashy, insinuating, or politically incorrect. Just last week, Walmart pulled off the shelf a (disappointingly tame) "Naughty Leopard" costume for little girls just because the word "naughty" (not the costume itself) was deemed too sexualized. And UK supermarket chains Asda and Tesco have just yanked a grotesquely deranged "mental patient" costume that supposedly disparaged the mentally ill.

But I think all the easily offended critics out there fail to appreciate Halloween as a sort of one-off, wildly fantastic carnival. It's perhaps the one day of the year when everyone—not just the cosplayers or the goths or the fetishists or pick-your-subculture—gets a free pass to dress up in an insane get-up, purely for fun. Even a costume-averse frat boy can be a campy prisoner for one night. Whatever it is, you get to re-imagine yourself as something or someone else, and it's actually acceptable to walk around in that ridiculous get-up just about anywhere—in broad daylight, at night, on a train, on a plane, in a house, with a mouse....

One of my all-favorites was a Robot Vampire Dracula costume from a 2011 Halloween event I attended. Made mostly from cardboard, reflectors, and hardware store supplies! (Won the costume contest, btw.)

I, myself, did a sort of robot costume for that event. Was it too trashy/politically incorrect/dare I say, naughty? Perhaps? I don't know. (The gal next to me in the costume contest wore a suggestively arranged latex bacon-and-eggs costume.) But it was definitely FUN. And, be forewarned, I might have something questionably appropriate and certainly cheesy planned for Halloween this year. (Hint: I'll venture to guess it will bring back chagrined memories for my fellow DeepGlamour blogger, Paige Phelps. See: The Rise and Fall of Sexy Halloween)

Am I offended by overly, ridicuously sexualized costumes like "sexy Bert and Ernie"? I guess so. Do I want to see that parade by me on the street Halloween night? Absolutely. But it seems to me that Halloween costumes have long had an element of the risqué or campy politically incorrect. A quick perusal of the Internet reveals skimpy pin-up costumes, "incredibly bizarre" ones, or the simply inspired of bygone years. Semi-nude, his-n-her ... popcorn & peanuts (?), anyone?

September 24, 2013

One of the nice background touches in the terrific Danish political drama Borgen, whose episodes can be seen on LinkTV and L.A. station KCET, is the never-mentioned poster on the front door of reporter Katrine Fønsmark's apartment.

It tells you why she became a journalist and why, even though the guy kissing her is the prime minister's “spin doctor” (apparently his official title), she maintains a certain skepticism toward public officials. She actually seems a little young for All the President's Men to have sparked her ambitions, but I do know baby boomer journalists whose career ambitions were shaped by that glamorous portrayal of journalism.

More than we like to admit, glamour influences our answers to the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Think of all the architects and designers inspired by Ayn Rand's uncompromising genius Howard Roark. As a story of struggle and triumph, The Fountainhead is romantic, but Roark as an ideal is glamorous. As Michael Bierut writes in his classic post on Design Observer:

Roark's view towards clients -- "I don't intend to build in order to have clients. I intend to have clients in order to build." -- still seems to describe the private yearning harbored by most of my fellow professionals whether they care to admit it or not.

Glamour shapes our ideas of what careers are possible and what satisfactions they might offer. It allows us to see our future selves in fulfilling roles. When I reported a column on CSI's glamorous portrayal of science, I heard tales of surging enrollments in those forensic-science. (Numb3rs did not, however, have a similar effect on operations research, the applied math on which that show drew most often.) In its day, L.A. Lawreportedly increased law school applications.

Of course, glamour always contains an element of illusion, hiding difficulties and flaws and heightening rewards. In an American Bar Association Journal article, a critic complained about the law according to Stephen Bochco:

In a typical day in La La-Land, beautiful lawyers drive beautiful cars to the beautiful office, discuss sex with twins at a firm meeting, leave for court to win a case that is not only on the "right side" but very lucrative, then go to a beautiful dinner with tonight's beautiful sexual conquest.

At a recent conference I heard a fashion-merchandising professor lament a litany she hears from naive freshmen: Rachel Zoe. Despite what a generation of fashionistas has taken from Zoe's reality show and public persona, "celebrity stylist" isn't a realistic career goal or a subject you can get a degree in.

On the other hand, sometimes even the craziest ambitions come true. As a discerning reader at Zócalo Public Square wrote in the description of my November book talk there, “For a young Bill Clinton, glamour was the Kennedy White House.” And look where it got him.

September 17, 2013

To celebrate their site's launch, Nicole Nelson and Barbara vanBok (interviewed here) of We Are Fragrances are offering a lucky DeepGlamour reader an 8ml bottle of Turkish Embrace, one of their classic perfume blends (valued at $132). That's the big one, on the left. (The small one is the 5 ml bottle.)

Here's how We Are Fragrances describes the scent:

Dare to have a brush with the exotic... Lose yourself in citrus groves under clear skies, hear the laughter and sample the sweets in bright bazaars and dance all night under a sea of stars to the haunting music of the oud and kanun.

Our classic French-style perfume is a blend of essential oils in a base of pure fractionated coconut oil, said to have skin softening properties along with antioxidants.

Creamy, exotic and slightly demure, Turkish Embrace is a woody citrus with a soft and delicious gourmand heart. Zingy top notes of grapefruit, bergamot and orange blossom absolute, dissolve into a sumptuous heart of humid florals, cardamom, and vanilla. Later, the base notes quietly resound with incense, sandalwood, resins and cedar.

Let your mind wander free, refresh your senses and satisfy your sweet-tooth all at once. Being a diva never felt so decadently good!

Best of all, they ship internationally, so this contest is not limited to U.S. readers.

To enter, leave a comment below about your favorite scent (perfume or otherwise). Be sure to include your email address (not for publication) so we can contact you if you win. The deadline to enter is midnight Pacific Time on September 30, and the winner will be selected using Random.org.

We Are Fragrances launches its online store this Thursday with a fall collection of eight scents. The two co-founders talked with DG about the serendipity of how they met, the importance of creating scents in a ‟scrubbed and sanitized culture,” and how they're making a place for women of color in perfume culture. Plus perfume for newbies and the appealing scent of freshly turned-on air conditioning.

Be sure to register for We Are Fragrances' newsletter, and check back tomorrow to see how you can win a bottle of Turkish Embrace.

DG: What were your backgrounds before WAF? How did you meet?

Nicole Nelson: In October of 2012, I borrowed a book from a friend that held Barbara’s aromatherapy card as a bookmark. I was unfamiliar with aromatherapy, but intrigued. It wasn’t long before we started gathering for weekly meetings where Barbara would teach me about the healing qualities of essential oils. I instantly fell in love with them and the more we worked together, the more I realized the potential of bringing their incredible beauty and uplifting qualities to a new audience. I have always been enamoured with beauty, nature, and with using fashion as a means of self-expression. My background in art instilled my belief that beauty is precious and something that we should all have access to. I’ve always loved pampering and being girly so I was happy to find another avenue to do that while also using my creativity.

Barbara vanBok: I had been studying aromatherapy and perfumery for close to 20 years, but I had a background in the creative arts: dance, music, and I had my own graphics
design business. Friends and family had been telling me for years it was time to start doing something with my fragrance knowledge. I had a humble side career, creating custom aromatherapy blends for a few clients and had three blends out there in the world. However, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to put into launching an actual fragrance business on my own. Like anything in life, timing is absolutely everything! Nicole showed up very much out-of-the-blue. I got an email from her saying she was interested in hearing more about essential oils and how to use them. She had found my perfumery/aromatherapy business card lodged in a book that a friend had loaned her. For a couple months we got together and talked in depth about the essential oils, their properties, and I had her take home samples to work with on her own. It wasn’t long before it morphed into a full-blown business idea.

DG: How did you get interested in fragrances?

NN: My first fragrance was Pur Desir de Lilas by Yves Rocher. I had gone to visit Bordeaux (France) and I wanted to bring home a beautiful souvenir. That was in 2007. I wore that fragrance exclusively for about one year. After that, I didn’t wear perfume again, mostly due to working in environments where fragrances weren’t allowed. Also, very few people I knew wore perfume—or if they did, it wasn’t discussed—so it wasn’t very top of mind at that time in my life. When I met Barbara, I rediscovered how uplifting and fascinating fragrances are. Now I wear perfume every day.

BV: It would probably be easier to talk about when I haven’t been interested in fragrances. I think there was a brief time in 1982 when I rebelled as a teen and dramatically decided that I wasn’t going to wear perfumes! That didn’t last long.

My mother loved Orientals—Emeraude, Tabu, Chantilly. I grew up sneaking dabs of her perfume whenever I could...and bless her, she had the kindness to look the other way. I was always very much aware of odors in general and had a real fascination for them. The art of perfumery was still kind of a secreted subject when I was in school though. I didn’t realize it was something I could do as a job until I was well out of school and ran across books on aromatherapy. Of course, the advent of the Internet really changed so much for me. I found special interest boards and lots of generous individuals who had plenty of opinions regarding fragrance and perfumes. It gave me incentive to sniff a lot more of the classics before many of them were reformulated.

DG: We Are Fragrances features both perfumes and essential oils. What’s the difference?
How are they used?

BV: More accurately, We Are Fragrances features perfumes and aromatherapy blends created from essential oils. Essential oils are the building blocks. They differ from synthetically created aroma oils as they are natural and extracted from nature.

Perfumes have their roots in histories and rituals from many different cultures. Why people have liked to wear perfumes throughout the ages differs greatly from individual to individual. Generally though, people wear perfume to smell good, lift their spirits and appear attractive to others. The added benefit of using essential oils to create perfume is their luxurious, naturally softer odors that stay closer to the skin and make the perfume a truly personal experience.

Aromatherapy targets certain areas of life in an aromatic way. Are you generally stressed out and would like to relax more? Do you wish you could fall asleep more easily at night? Would you like to have a fragrance that balances you and at the same time adds an introspective touch during meditation practices? All this and more is possible through the gentle effects of aromatherapy. Aromatherapy is great because it’s non-habit forming and can be used safely along with other types of traditional and alternative therapies without interfering with them.

DG: How did you decide which fragrances to include in your initial line? Do you have a favorite?

Mostly it came down to following Barbara’s skill and intuition. I’d see her for our weekly meetings and she’d let me sniff a new fragrance she had been working on. Nearly all of those initial fragrances are now part of our current collection.

My favorite We Are Fragrances perfume is So Very Casablanca—probably because I named it (lol). Actually, what I find so intriguing about So Very Casablanca is its complexity and depth. It’s dark, smoky, dry, and gourmand all at the same time. When I first smelled it, I immediately got an image of Humphrey Bogart in a dark lounge with a dry desert background. It reminds me of something classic and romantic, a fragrance of a bygone era with a decidedly modern twist.

BV: I’m incredibly proud of all of our perfume blends and it’s awfully difficult for me to choose a favorite. We also have several other blends and products in the works that I’m excited about. At the moment I’ve been wearing a lot of Lotus Pose when I’m working. I love how it centers, calms and helps to bring me back to “the now” when I’m feeling overwhelmed with little details. It also gently wafts off my skin in this delightful way!

DG: How do natural fragrances differ from synthetics? Why do you prefer to use only naturals? Are you against synthetics as a general rule, or is this simply a personal, artistic preference?

NN: For me, whether to use naturals or synthetics comes down to how I feel when I use them. As I wear more natural fragrances, I find that synthetics often give me headaches, make me feel nauseous, or in the case of one I recently tried, I started to feel light-headed. That’s not to say that all synthetics cause such a strong reaction in me (and there are certainly many synthetics that I wear and love) but the point is, naturals just don’t. We created We Are Fragrances to use natural ingredients blended without alcohol that would allow for a personal and subtle experience while still being luxurious enough to attract people who are chemically sensitive but can’t stand the thought of giving up their perfumes. We Are Fragrances are a natural alternative.

I’m not against synthetics at all. As a matter of fact I have an enormous collection of perfumes made with both synthetics and naturals and some of them I’m sure are composed completely of synthetics—just try and pry them out of my cold, dead fingers!

However there are several reasons I’ve decided to use only essential oils in my work. First of all they are gorgeous and natural. The palette nature has provided us with is exquisite, soft, and elegant. In this day and age when people are more and more encouraged to not perfume themselves because so many are chemically sensitive to synthetic odors, the essential oils offer a soft alternative. Scent is so very basic to all of us. It’s such a lovely, simple, human pleasure. We were meant to enjoy natural smells from nature. As we are pushed more and more to be a scrubbed and sanitized culture I can’t help questioning if we are losing much of our sensuality and humanity. I think that’s a very disturbing thought.

It’s cheering to me when someone who is chemically sensitive tells me how happy they are because they are able to wear and enjoy my perfumes without negative effects. Also, as long as we are replacing these natural resources as we use them, essential oils are friendly to the environment as well.

DG: What’s your favorite fragrance?

NN: My favorite scent is the smell of freshly cut lilacs. Not only do they remind me when my birthday is around the corner, but whenever I smell them, I am instantly taken back to walks in the gorgeous French countryside. There really is nothing like it.
My perfume preferences change based on my mood and the seasons, but at the moment I’m split between our own So Very Casablanca and Daim Blond by Serge Lutens. They are two completely different fragrances. So Very Casablanca is used when I want to be cloaked in a warm, exotic, and mysterious perfume. I’ve found that on me, it wears really well in the dry heat of summer. I wear Daim Blond when I want something light and bubbly. The first note is so cheerful and it always makes me laugh. It’s such a magical fragrance.

BV: There are so many odors that I love, both simple and complex. I’m crazy about the Guerlain classic, Shalimar. It’s the ultimate Oriental perfume and sometimes I’ll admit I’ve gone overboard in putting it on, just because I do love it so much.

Another fragrance that’s terribly compelling for me would be considered more of an odor. It’s the smell of an air conditioning unit in very humid weather when it’s first turned on; after that first moment it’s gone. It’s kind of difficult to describe. The best I can do is to say that it’s the odor of humid air turning to cool, dry air—very elusive and ethereal.

BV: While the perfume isn’t for me, I love-love-love the story of L’heure Bleue. It’s said that one summer evening Jacques Guerlain was transfixed and overcome with emotion during the “The Blue Hour.” It’s the hour “when the sky has lost its sun but not yet found its stars.” Everything is draped in a soft, blue light. He tried to capture that melancholic emotion that he felt through his perfumery. Also, another interesting note that always gives me chills... It was said that since the bottles of L’heure Bleue and Mitsouko have the same design, the perfumes were meant to represent the beginning and the end of the First World War.

DG: What advice would you give to someone new who wants to learn about fragrances?

NN: Read as much as you can. Start with the blogs and small Internet communities like Bois de Jasmin, Osmoz, and Perfume Posse. They all do a great job of highlighting the best of perfume culture as well as providing tips for novice perfume lovers. Start with samples and decants and don’t EVER buy a full bottle of fragrance without first testing how it smells when you wear it.

BV: Honestly I’d say just dive in. This is not a time for restraint! Perfume is full of passion and imagination so go with abandon in the direction you are most pulled to start. There are plenty of wonderful blogs and so much general information on the Internet. Pick something you know you love, like a summertime bouquet or freshly crushed sage and lemon rind. Do a scent-search online. Once you have a diving off point, it’s easy to become immersed.

DG: How much of finding the “right” perfume is about your biochemistry and how much about your personality?

NN: I’d say choosing the right perfume is 50 percent personality and 50 percent biochemistry. Perfume is very much an extension of who you are. The wonderful thing about wearing perfume is that you can wear them according to your mood, the seasons, a particular occasion, etc. Certain fragrances suit different tastes and moods. But, when you put it on, whether or not it works on you is entirely up to nature.

BV: Whew! People have been engaged in lively discussion about this topic seemingly forever. I think it could be anyone’s guess. However if I have to take a stab at it, I’d say both biochemistry and personality play parts. I also think culture and time-frame have a lot to do with popularity when it comes to fragrances. Sometimes it might be difficult to find your “right” perfume because while the mainstream is into fruity, light-florals, your best perfumes are sultry chypres and at the moment, they happen to be out of favor. The best thing you can do is keep sampling and testing on your skin.

DG: You’ve described We Are Fragrances as “primarily, though not exclusively, targeted toward women of color.” How does that affect your marketing? Your product formulations (if at all)?

NN: The reason We Are Fragrances is aimed towards women of color is because, unlike the fashion and cosmetics industries, for some reason, black and Latina women have largely been ignored in the fragrance market. I want everyone to feel like perfume is for them, and if a woman of another race sees herself in our products then of course she should wear them. Still, being a black woman, I want to sell products that reflect me by using women of color as models and by creating products that would appeal to women like me. It is especially important for me to create a product line that puts women of color first instead of adding in a few “ethnic” products/models/colors, etc. as an afterthought.

This affects our marketing by showcasing women of color in our advertising and being a bit more sensual with our colors and imagery. Darker skin tones can get away with wearing brighter colors and we wanted to translate some of that playfulness into our website. We take some inspiration from Old World perfume traditions from places like Greece, Egypt, and Morocco. We also continue to research the best oils and fragrances for women of color but it’s an evolution. The biggest difference is seeing more women of color on our website. Our fragrances can definitely be worn by all skin types.

DG: Beyond the selection of models for ads, does traditional “perfume culture” exclude women of color and, if so, how?

NN: To answer this question, you have to think about what “perfume culture” means. When you look at today’s fragrance ads, there is a certain image that is being sold. There are generally two camps: either the woman is ultra-feminine, doe-eyed, and youthful or, she is sexy, mysterious, and slightly dangerous. Now, when you think about how women of color have historically been viewed in Western society, we really haven’t been allowed to enjoy our femininity or sexuality. Women of color have really had to create their own image of themselves because they don’t fit into commercial perfume advertising. Fragrance is so much about being authentic and there is still a lot of pressure to conform to a standard of beauty that is Western European. As a black woman, that’s just not me, so how can I wear those fragrances and feel authentic?

BV: Well, I don’t have as much emotional connection to this question since I’m Caucasian, so I’ll defer, emotionally speaking, to Nicole here. However I can say that historically the first recorded perfumes were made by a chemist in Mesopotamia and the art of perfumery has its origins in Egypt, later being refined in Rome, Persia and Arabia. Indian attars were recorded in the 7th century A.D. and the making of perfume and incense was also popular in Asian cultures early on. So, if we are discussing the earliest “perfume culture,” women of color were the first ones wearing perfumes before it spread to the Western world.

DG: When I went to the post office to mail your copy of Alyssa Harad’s book, instead of just the usual question about “anything liquid, perishable, or potentially hazardous,” the
clerk specifically asked me whether the package contained perfume, explaining that it could explode in the air. Do you have any problems shipping fragrances? How do you
deal with postal restrictions?

NN: We Are Fragrances are created without alcohol so we don’t have a problem shipping fragrances nationally or internationally. I would love to have an answer as to why it’s a problem to ship alcohol but I have not found a conclusive answer to that question yet.

DG: What have been your biggest surprises in starting a business? Your biggest challenges?

NN: Biggest surprise: How I suddenly gained new respect from friends, family, and acquaintances when I said I was starting a business. I think what has most impressed people has been that I’m actually following my passion and taking action on it. I feel like a lot of people wait until they retire to be happy or just let life happen without going after what they want. For many reasons I refuse to live my life like that. I’ve never been one to settle for second-best. Now I’m seen as a role model in my community, which is pretty awesome.

Biggest challenge: Waiting. As with any new company, it takes awhile to build followers and I’m impatient. Even though I’m enjoying the journey, I always want faster results. Today’s consumers have so much choice so it can be hard getting people to pay attention unless you suddenly get a lot of press. I absolutely believe in our products and philosophy so I know it’s just a matter of time before we become well known. Still, the waiting period and building a strong business structure can be challenging. Luckily, every week things get easier and more people find us.

BV: I’ve had businesses before, but this one has been the most challenging because there have been so many details to work out in a relatively short amount of time. I’m beginning to hear, “Just this one more thing,” in my sleep! However I feel an incredible reward because so many people have been genuinely enthusiastic when they try our perfumes. I know what wearing a beautiful fragrance does for me and how it lifts my mood. I’m truly excited and humbled to be able to bring that experience to others.

DG: What makes perfume—or a particular scent—glamorous to you?

NN: The experience of wearing perfume is one that instantly creates a pulled together and even more gorgeous image of myself. If it’s one of our own perfumes, I also get the pampering and uplifting qualities of the essential oils. As long as a fragrance can do that, then I feel it is glamorous.

BV: It has to be a fragrance that on the dry down smells smooth and silky to my nose. It can be a big perfume, an austere one or even one that is bright, light and bubbly, but it’s the final dryout, the last lingering notes on the skin and how they hang together, that makes a perfume glamorous to me.

September 14, 2013

The book (pre-order your copy here) includes four photos by the great architectural photographer Julius Shulman, including this one of the Kaufmann House in Palm Springs.

One of the biggest misconceptions about glamour is that it is somehow feminine. Men are as susceptible to glamour as women, but it takes different forms for different audiences. One of the first uses of the word glamour in the modern sense was in reference to "the glamour of battle," and martial glamour is one of glamour's most ancient forms.

One of the delightful discoveries during my research was the work of photographer Virginia Thoren, who specialized in glamorously portraying fur coats in mid-20th-century ads. I hope to feature an interview with her in a later DG post but, in the meantime, you can see more of her work at the June Bateman Fine Art site.

Her thick, dark hair was smoothed back into a chignon, and the slim, elegant length of her was clothed in expertly tailored black, from the sharp collar of her silk shirt right down to the tips of her rather high heels. I stood up a little straighter and tucked an errant curl behind my ear. Yes, I said, I knew of the line. But I was looking for the JAR boutique.

“Ah, JAR,” she sighed. “Yes, of course. I like these perfumes very much. Let me show you.”

She led me into a tiny alcove off the main floor and delivered me to an immaculate, silver-haired man with a broad chest, large, square hands, and the bearing of a career diplomat.

“This is Robert,” she said, gesturing toward the diplomat. He shook my hand solemnly. “Robert, this young lady would like to have the JAR experience.”

At Robert’s request, I sat down on a soft, low chair in front of a small, black-lacquered table that held a collection of old-fashioned bell jars. Everything was swathed in shadow: the chair a maroon velvet, the carpet dark lilac gray, the walls covered in deep mauve. Two small spotlights punctuated the sepulchral gloom, glinting off the glass domes on the table and the silver in Robert’s hair.

Leaning forward slightly, Robert began to talk. First he told the story of the room and the mural and how many times JAR—who had flown in himself from Paris to oversee the work—had it repainted to meet his strict standards. I squirmed and snuck a look at the unlabeled bell jars. If the perfume blogs were to be trusted, each of them held a square of cotton soaked in perfume. Robert ignored my glance and continued telling me, in the same unhurried, respectful tones, the story of Joel Arthur Rosenthal, from the Bronx, and how he found his true métier in Paris as a jeweler for the very discriminating (and very rich) and became the capital-letters-no-periods figure he is today.

Then, turning a large leather binder around to face me, he began to page slowly through glossy color photos of JAR jewelry. Dazzling pavé surfaces floated up under the bright spotlight. Thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds, emeralds, rubies, amethysts, citrons, and sapphires set in tiny hand-drilled holes made swirling patterns, unearthly flowers, shimmering butterflies and insects. Robert was dropping the names of movie stars and the wives of politicians and billionaires, and I was thinking about compulsion, perfectionism, and patronage—czars and pharaohs, Napoleon and the Medicis. And occasionally, it must be admitted, of Las Vegas: Pavé is not a technique that lends itself to sleek, modernist restraint.

At last we arrived at the moment when JAR decided to create his own perfumes—perfumes worthy of the name JAR. Robert paused, leaned back in his chair, and moved the bell jars to the center of the table.

“Are you ready to experience the perfumes now?” he asked. For a moment I thought I saw a glint of irony in his eyes. Resisting the impulse to wink, I inclined my head gravely.

One by one, he slid the jars in front of me, whisked off the glass, and tipped the base forward for me to sniff at the accumulated vapors as they escaped into the air. They went by like a series of fever dreams: a cloud of fiery clove-and-cinnamon-edged carnations thick and lush enough to drown in. Dirty hay and ripe animal—the filthiest, sexiest, most expensive barnyard in the world. An acre of gardenias blooming furiously in moist dirt and humid air. Carnations again, but lighter, touched with a sparkling chill and trailing other flowers and something like incense behind them. Berries and wine at the end of a perfect sunny afternoon. Something dark and sharp, smelling of dust, roots, caves, and cellars. And then something—

“Could I smell that one again, please?”

Obligingly, Robert tipped the jar toward me a second time.

And there it was again. The smell of the air just after a summer thunderstorm—an astonishing scent of trampled grass, broken branches, bruised flowers, and electricity. I closed my eyes and inhaled a third time, grateful for the dim quiet of the little alcove.

———

‟They went by like a series of fever dreams: a cloud of fiery clove-and-cinnamon-edged carnations thick and lush enough to drown in. Dirty hay and ripe animal—the filthiest, sexiest, most expensive barnyard in the world. An acre of gardenias blooming furiously in moist dirt and humid air. Carnations again, but lighter, touched with a sparkling chill and trailing other flowers and something like incense behind them. Berries and wine at the end of a perfect sunny afternoon. Something dark and sharp, smelling of dust, roots, caves, and cellars. And then something—”

———

With a start, I remembered that Robert was holding the jar for me. I opened my eyes and leaned back. We looked at one another again. This time, fortified by the perfume, I grinned, and was rewarded with a faint smile, the gentle irony on clear display now.

“Would you like to try one of them on your skin?” he asked.

Of course I did. I wanted to try all of them. But I knew my greed would only make it impossible to smell any of them properly.

“May I wait a moment and then smell them again to choose one?”

“Of course.”

We waited. Feeling that some kind of conversation was required, I leaned forward and confessed that I had come all the way from Texas to smell the perfumes.

“They’re like celebrities to me,” I said. “I can’t believe I actually get to see and meet them in person.”

His smile widened, “Oh, yes, I know what you’re talking about. I’m from Oklahoma. I remember feeling that way about a lot of things in the city.” He paused and sighed. “Some of them lived up to my expectations. Some did not.”

We had a moment of silence, thinking about cities and dreams.

“Again?”
“

Yes, please.”

And we went through them all again, though I already knew which one I would choose. I told Robert, and with great ceremony he anointed the back of my hand. We rose, I thanked him, and without a trace of self-consciousness we bowed slightly to one another, two courtiers taking their leave. Neither of us said a word about money.

Alyssa will be at Green Apple Books and Music in San Francisco tonight at 7 p.m. and at The Scent Bar in Los Angeles Saturday from 4 to 6 p.m. For more on her West Coast book tour, which also includes Portland and Seattle, go here.

July 31, 2013

Share Alyssa Harad's delightful journey into the world of fragrances with an autographed copy of the hardback of Coming to My Senses: A Story of Perfume, Pleasure, and an Unlikely Bride. To enter, leave a comment below about your favorite scent—whether a perfume or just a smell you love. Be sure to leave your email address so we can contact you if you win. (The address will not be public.)

The deadline to enter is Wednesday, August 7 at noon Pacific Time. We'll select a winner using Random.org.

In Coming to My Senses: A Story of Perfume, Pleasure, and an Unlikely Bride, Alyssa Harad tells the story of how she found herself obsessed with perfume and how, through that obsession, she came to integrate the sensory and creative sides of her personality into her intellectual life. The book recently came out in paperback, and Alyssa begins a West Coast book tour this Thursday in San Francisco, followed by L.A., Portland, and Seattle (details here). Tomorrow we'll be running an excerpt from the book, and you can enter to win a copy here. As an introduction, DG's Virginia Postrel talked to Alyssa by phone.

VP: I like perfume, but I find it somewhat intimidating. It’s like wine—it’s complicated, hard to learn about without a lot of investment and direct experience. You can’t just read about it or look at pictures and get a sense for it. In your memoir, you talk about going to a local smelling salon, which is not something most of us have access to. And you also do this great thing where you introduce friends to perfumes. You bring them over samples that you think they might like and you tell the stories of the perfumes and you let them try them. For people who don’t have either of those options, what do you recommend?

AH: I didn’t have either of those options when I started out. I began reading the blogs. And I started with Now Smell This, which is a very typical place for people to start, and Bois de Jasmin. Both of those blogs have archives that you can search by perfume and Bois de Jasmin has an archive you can search by note, so you can look for things that you think you like. Then I would take that new language and order some samples or you can go to a perfume counter, if you’re lucky enough to have one—I didn’t really have one—and try a few things. It does get pricey, but it’s a lot cheaper than wine, I can tell you that. If wine came in $3.00 samples, I would know a lot more about wine than I do right now.

VP: Three-dollar samples through the mail too…

AH: Exactly. For me it was very similar to learning about a new cuisine. The first time you have Thai food you’re just sort of dazzled by all the flavors. And then the third time you have it you learn that, oh, that thing you really like is called lemongrass. And then you go read a cookbook and you learn that all the creaminess comes from coconut milk. So each of these things has its own vocabulary, and I think maybe the reason perfume is intimidating to people, besides the fact that the industry has given us absolutely no way to organize and decipher what they produce...

VP: What do you mean?

AH: When you go to a wine shop it’s organized by region and type of wine, right? So you know you like cabernet, you go look at the cabernet section. But perfume is a branded commodity, so each brand is trying to sell you a little piece of its empire, and each brand has its own array of scents within the brand. And the myth, the fiction, is that you will find everything you need within a certain line and you’ll be loyal to that brand.

VP: Which is interesting, because fashion doesn’t work that way. The idea of a fashion brand is that the brand has a personality.

AH: The lines, when they’re good, do have personality, but there’s another way to view perfume beyond the brand, which is by of language of scent that’s common to perfume. So you might figure out that you really like the smell of vanilla or you really like the smell of vetiver, which you might even not know what that is or what that smells like until you start reading and smelling perfume. And then when you do, there’s really no way for you to go to a mainstream perfume counter and find all the vetiver perfume.

The genius of the Jo Malone brand is that they actually named the perfumes after the things they smelled like. And a few of the niche brands began with perfumes that were decipherable as photorealistic smells. If you knew it smelled like in the world you could match it to the perfume. The Demeter line, which is a super fun line that shows up in some high-end grocery stores and hip boutiques, has a whole bunch of very, very simple one-note perfumes that have names like Dirt
and Play-doh—and that’s what they smell like.

I started with perfumes like that—that were easy to decipher. It’s so rare for most people to really think about smells that people feel sure they have no vocabulary, or even that they don’t smell anything at all, until you put it in front of them. So I have this experience all the time where I’ll tell somebody, “Smell this. It smells likes lemons and basil.” And they look at me like I’m crazy and then they smell it and they say, “Oh my god, it really smells like lemons and basil.” (laughter) They’re so shocked that they’re able to identify the scent. And I have to say, I have never seen someone have that experience more than once in a row and not want to have it again. It’s a very addictive experience to discover that you have this capacity to identify things in the world. And, you know, that’s the beginning of the end.

VP: One of the these things I found frustrating about your book is that you would talk about a scent but you would never give its name, and I wondered why that was.

AH: The main reason, as I do state in the author’s note, which is that the scents are discontinued and reformulated so quickly that I was genuinely afraid that I would describe things in the book and then people would go and find them and they would smell nothing like what I had described. I didn’t want people to be thinking, “She’s crazy. This doesn’t smell like that.” (laughter)

The more subtle reason was that there were so many brand names in the book that it began feel like an infomercial for perfume, and there were moments when I really wanted the reader to be thinking about whatever imaginary scents they were conjuring up in their head and the emotion of the theme, rather than writing something down on their shopping list.

Then the final reason is that some of these perfumes don’t smell that way to me anymore. So the perfume I’m describing to you is the perfume as I smelled it in that moment. The biggest one of these for me is the honey perfume that I talk about in chapter two.

VP: The one your now-husband smells and says, “It smells like you.”

AH: That perfume—well, first of all, the name of that perfume is Botrytis, which you probably know from the wine world is the noble rot. It sounds like a disease, because that’s what it is. So I would have had this long explanation of why I fell in love with a perfume named after a disease in the middle of this touching love scene. (laughter) So, there was that sort of writerly problem.

Also I still really like it a lot, but it’s not quite the same thing to me now as it was when I first smelled it. I wanted a chance to explain that to people when I revealed the name. I assumed that the book would have an afterlife online and that it wouldn’t be the beginning and the end of the reader’s experience. So it didn’t seem too torturous to have people wait until I told them online what all the perfumes where.

I have been a little behind, of course, in putting them all in one place for the website. But in the meantime, if people really, really want to know something, they can just ask me. I tell people all the time.

VP: You kept discovering people who love perfume but never talk about it, or at least you didn’t know about it. I remember one of your husband’s super macho relatives was an example. Is this some kind of ‟don’t ask don’t tell” thing, or was it just that it hadn’t come up because you hadn’t been interested in perfume?

AH: Probably a little bit of both. I think for the people who collect it—who have more than one bottle or maybe more than 10 bottles—it’s kind of a don’t ask don’t tell thing. Unlike collecting art or even collecting wine or music, there’s no broader cultural context for collecting perfume. So it really is a genuinely odd thing to do right now, and I think in recent years perfume has almost become taboo. There’s been a lot of blowback I think, though people don’t wear perfume in the extravagant public way that they used to wear, say, in the ’80s when everybody could still smoke in public. So people might be wearing a lot of perfume, smoking, and wearing a lot of hairspray. (laughter) There was just a lot more olfactory noise going on. Now everybody is trying to be very clean, and there’s a lot of talk of allergies, and perfume is a very easy target. Most workplaces are scent-free. So it’s not something that people comment on.

———

‟Unlike collecting art or even collecting wine or music, there’s no broader cultural context for collecting perfume. So it really is a genuinely odd thing to do right now, and I think in recent years perfume has almost become taboo.”

———

VP: When you say most workplaces are scent-free, do you mean they are de facto scent-free or they actually have “don’t wear perfume” policies?

AH: It depends on where you work. There’s definitely a lot of talk about the ‟office scent.” You can see that in the women’s magazines. If you’re going to wear a scent at the office, it’s presumed that you will wear something that’s very quiet and very clean and will not offend anybody. And many workplaces actually have a no-scent policy. If you work in any aspect of health care, for example. There are a lot of nurses in the perfume community and they’re full of these little tricks that they do to just have a tiny bit of scent to keep them going through the night shift.

VP: I first heard about the book by reading an excerpt in the Chronicle of Higher Education, which I thought was a brilliant place to put an excerpt because the book is only ostensibly about perfume. The bigger story, as the title suggests, is about an intellectual—specifically an intellectual woman, specifically a feminist intellectual woman—learning that it is OK to find pleasure and meaning in something that’s sensory and supposedly frivolous. Although we come from very different places, I identified with that.

I’m always struck by how people who would never dismiss music or food or even sex—it’s fine to talk about sex all day long—have so much trouble with visual or olfactory or tactile pleasures. One way to turn this rant into a question is to say one of your friends said, “I just don’t want to be the kind of woman who wears perfume.” What is that statement about? What is she getting at?

AH: Oh, god, you would have to ask her. I feel like I knew the answer to that question before I got into perfume, because I felt that way, and then somewhere along the line the number of people I knew who wore perfume and the ladies who wore it became so diverse that I had trouble conjuring up who that woman was that I was afraid of.

I know that for me it has a lot to do, not even so much with being intellectual, as there’s a certain kind of traditional femininity that I associate or that I associated—I’ve changed quite a bit on this—with things like blowing your hair dry on a regular basis and wearing high heels and wearing foundation makeup every day. A sort of very groomed, very high femme presentation that was very straight in all senses of the word.

It wasn’t so much that I didn’t like people like that—it was just that I had failed. (laughter) Growing up in Boise, Idaho, I was in the land of ladies who are very put together like that. And I always thought there was some kind of rulebook that I had missed out on. It wasn’t even that I was in rebellion—I was just sort of failing. (laughter) And so I had to go and look for other ways to be a girl and to be a woman, and they didn’t seem to come along with things like perfume. So this adventure, both with the perfume and dealing with becoming a bride, was my way of rethinking and feeling my way into that kind of femininity, and looking for all the ways it could be expanded and maybe all the ways that I had been wrong about it. And it turned out that a lot of it was actually very important to me and connected to creativity as well.

So for me this isn’t as much a story about going from academic work to creative work as it is about going from intellectuality to sensuality.

VP: People often say, “Why are shoes so popular for women? Why are they so meaningful?” and one answer is, “Well, the reason is women of all sizes and shapes can wear beautiful shoes.” Given my history with shoes, I’m not entirely sure that’s true…

AH: Me neither. (laughter)

VP: …but it’s sort of true. And the same thing is true of perfume. You don’t have to be a size two or even a size six to wear really wonderful perfume. Maybe some of the appeal is that because it is so intangible some of the constraints that women are used to thinking about are not there.

AH: I think that’s definitely true. I know that for me perfume is a way of embodying the kind of invisible selves that you carry around with you. It’s a way of making a fantasy self into something that’s present, although perhaps still invisible. But not maybe as invisible as it was when you were just thinking about it, because people do smell you and you smell yourself and you walk a different way, and you you present yourself to people a different way and you might, if you’re me, be inspired to make your outsides match those more tangible fantasies that you’re now having.

VP: Can you give us some examples of ways that you do that?

AH: With these sort of grand French perfumes that are very “night of the opera” perfumes, I can be fairly messy but be wearing vintage jewelry and some red lipstick, and I just feel dressed up. I no longer feel like a schlump (laughter) without necessarily having to fit into the clothes that might match that, or wear shoes that make my feet uncomfortable. It gives me a very easy way of trying on a whole new persona and carrying it around with me during the day.

I was just talking to the manager at Lucky Scents, the Scent Bar in L.A. When he shows people how to pick a perfume he tells them that you’ll recognize it because you’ll recognize a piece of yourself. You already know the scent—you just haven’t met it yet. (laughter) You haven’t met the scent that matches that piece of yourself that you’ve been carrying around. I think that’s a beautiful way of putting it. When you smell these perfumes that profoundly move you, it’s an experience of recognition. In the same way that you might recognize yourself in a book or a painting. There’s that piece of your experience that you didn’t think was possible to articulate.

VP: Are there any invisible selves that you’ve tried on this way where after a day you thought, “That is not me”?

AH: (laughter) Well, I have a few that aren’t very sustainable, where I wear the perfume very rarely and when I do it I very rarely wear it more than one day in a row. For me the best examples of that are these big, white flower scents. White flowers are the really rich, lush, heady flowers like lilies and jasmine and tuberose and gardenia. Jasmine now, I think, is very much a part of me, very comfortable. But there’s a tuberose scent called Carnal Flower by Frederic Malle, and I wear it when I want to be a diva. (laughter) And that doesn’t happen that often. Every now and then I want to feel like I own the spotlight.

VP: So picking one of the themes of my own book, which is coming out in November, one of the things I liked about your book was that you often refer to distinctive kinds of glamour—you actually use that term—that appeal to different longings and different ideals, which is a big theme of my book. You talk, for example, about a perfume with “a bookish, coffeehouse kind of glamour” that made you “feel like a hip, black-clad version of myself—thinner and longer-legged, with one of those rumpled haircuts and the black-framed glasses all the people who intimidated me in college used to wear.” I’m curious to what extent your intellectual life, or your career, has been shaped by glamour?

AH: Now that I think about it, that it’s absolutely central to my intellectual and creative life. I enjoy being dazzled, I’m an enthusiastic person, I like being a little overwhelmed and swept up but then because I know that about myself, I’m also suspicious of it. So I think I’ve spent a lot of time either being entranced by somebody and their ideas, because they have a kind of glamour for me or being on guard, reacting against glamour and trying to not be enchanted and besotted. (laughter) I think, you know, that arc that we were talking abour—from intellectual to sensual—part of what came along with that was allowing myself to be enchanted and enraptured without worrying too much about whether I was committing some kind of political or moral sin. And I now really, I think, have a much easier relationship to glamour and I have a lot more fun with it. I just admire the magic tricks that other people perform to produce their glamour. Even if I can’t myself, I really appreciate that in other people.

VP: I mean, I think there’s a rarely remarked upon glamour—the bookish coffee house kind of glamour. There’s a glamour of the intellectual life…

AH: Absolutely.

VP: …that has nothing to do with a specific person’s performance of it. It’s just very compelling, the same way a person with a different sort of personality might picture, say, the glamour of being a movie star.

AH: I was thinking about how glamorous my dissertation advisor was to me, and still is in many ways, and what she looked like and how she performed that glamour and how much we were all very crushed out on her. I think a lot of teachers have glamour, no matter what they look like or what they wear, just because of that relationship.

VP: Going back to perfume, you wrote about the success of expensive perfumes—Joy and Scandal—during the Depression and you pointed out that they sold way too well to have just been bought by the rich. What do you think is the significance of luxuries like that in difficult times?

AH: If I can be a little bit obnoxious and quote myself, I say in the book that it’s a kind of promise. It’s a covenant kept with the idea that life should be about more than their survival. Luxuries, I think for many people who will never own a piece of art or anything that has been validated as being high culture, are a piece of beauty. I used to have these quarrels with the social workers in my life about the hierarchy of needs, where there’s this idea that people, first they have to have shelter and food and then they can start to think about the next thing and the next thing and the next thing.

A friend told me a story about this woman he knew who was homeless and was kind of traveling and sort of sleeping with people, so that she would have a place to stay. The first time she got some money she bought a bottle of perfume instead of buying food or putting that money down on a room to stay for the night. Because it was something that she could keep with her, and it was a piece of herself maybe that she didn’t have access to in that kind of extremity.

VP: You talk about how swapping “turned something that was supposed to be about conspicuous consumption into a gift economy.” That strikes me as kind of a defensive statement, as if there’s something wrong with buying and selling. I understand that it’s nice to get stuff cheap or free because you can go ahead and enjoy yourself more, but does this reflect a view that it’s OK to have beauty but not to pay for it? How do you feel about commerce?

AH: Many of these perfumes were made deliberately hard to access. They’re only available in a few outlets or maybe only one city. They are not as expensive as a pair of Manolos but they for regular folks, $150 to buy a perfume is a lot of money. I and many people I’ve spoken to feel the presence of invisible velvet ropes when they go into those really high-end boutiques and department stores. And so to me it’s this kind of joyful thing that the swapping culture just removed all of that.

When you’re getting these things in the mail, it’s not about the fancy bottle anymore and it’s not about the place where you bought it. It’s really only about the scent, and it’s coming to you wrapped in bubble paper. (laughter) It’s got a handwritten label on it, and so now suddenly it’s about people sharing things with each other. And I really love that inversion.

The bigger question about whether or not I’ve come to terms with commerce I think is an open one. I would hope that I have a much more nuanced relationship to it now than when I began. I think I had some kind of reflective grumpiness, from my long graduate school training, about things that were marketed to or created specifically for people who have a lot of cash and a lot of power, because I’m kind of always rooting of the underdog. Now I think of it in a much more complicated way. I think this kind of coveting and wanting a little piece of luxury is something that runs the socioeconomic gamut.

And also sometimes things that are very cheap are much more exploitative in terms of the labor structure behind them than things that are very expensive and being made by one person. So it’s complicated, but I think that as long as there’s serious economic injustice in the world I would hope that my relationship to consumerism is ambivalent and in progress. I hope that I would always sort of be questioning my ongoing relationship to that and how it works and what I’m buying into.

———

‟For me perfume is a way of embodying the kind of invisible selves that you carry around with you. It’s a way of making a fantasy self into something that’s present, although perhaps still invisible.”

———

VP: My limited experience is that the perfume sales people in high-end places are not especially snooty compared to, say, how one might assume people selling similarly expensive dresses would be. Oddly enough I find it less intimidating to go to the Frederic Malle counter at Barney’s than to a counter in Macy’s.

AH: I think in order to sell perfume at that Barney’s counter, you have to really like perfume. So you have to like it and know it and enjoy it and be able to talk about it in a way that goes beyond making your commission.

Most of the people who work the mid-range or low-end counters in department stores are paid directly by the brand that they’re selling, and they’re often hired part-time. They’re rarely trained, and they often only know about the two or three things that they’re trying to push that have just been released.

The big exception to that in Nordstrom. Nordstrom’s has a special program that they train all their perfume people with. That’s also a place that you can go where it’s policy to make you a sample and they just sell it in a completely different way.

VP: Some perfume enthusiasts believe only natural fragrances are acceptable, what you call perfume’s original language. You don’t make that dichotomy. You embrace modern synthetic chemistry as well. Why is that? What is your philosophy?

AH: Because I really like perfume and I want as much good perfume as possible. And so I want perfumers to have the palette that they want to work with. Part of it is my personal aesthetic preference. When you work with synthetics it’s much easier to control the architecture of the perfume. It’s much easier to control the way the perfume unfolds on your skin and the amount of space there is between the different smells that you’re using to create the chords or the sort of melody of the perfume and you have a much wider range to work with. But really, it’s just because I’m a greedy hedonist. I just want as much good art as possible.

For details on Alyssa's appearances in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Portland, and Seattle, go here.

"The cover of Rolling Stone is meant for glorifying rock stars, icons, and heroes NOT murderers!" protested a typical reader in the article's online comments thread. Boston Mayor Thomas Menino decried the magazine for its "celebrity treatment" of Tsarnaev and for sending the "terrible message that destruction gains fame for killers and their 'causes.'"

Unfortunately, Islamist terrorism doesn't need Rolling Stone to make it glamorous. For the right audience, apparently including Tsarnaev, it already is. Understanding the nature of that glamour could offer clues to discouraging future terrorists. But first we have to acknowledge that terrorist glamour exists.

The novelist Salman Rushdie recognized the connection in a 2006 interview. "Terror is glamour--not only, but also," he said, arguing that many terrorists "are influenced by the misdirected image of a kind of magic ... The suicide bomber's imagination leads him to believe in a brilliant act of heroism, when in fact he is simply blowing himself up pointlessly and taking other people's lives."

The interviewer was flabbergasted, but Rushdie was correct. Glamour is about much more than celebrity, sex appeal or shiny dresses. It's a product of imagination--and a powerful form of persuasion.

Glamour gives its audience the feeling of "if only"--if only I could belong to that group, wear that dress, drive that car, date that person, live in that house. If only I could be like that. By embodying our longings in a specific image or idea, glamour convinces us, if only for a moment, that the life we yearn for exists. That dream can motivate real-world action, whether that means taking a resort vacation, moving to a new city, starting a band or planting a bomb with visions of martyrdom. What we find glamorous helps define who we are and who we may become.

Janet Reitman's Rolling Stone story on Tsarnaev points to several sources of glamour that have nothing to do with celebrity: the allure of military action, utopian causes and a lost homeland and identity. All these things speak to desires that go deeper than fame. "It is not uncommon for young Chechen men to romanticize jihad," Reitman writes, describing "abundant Chechen jihadist videos online" that show fighters from the Caucasus who "look like grizzled Navy SEALs, humping through the woods in camouflage and bandannas."

To be a jihadi warrior, these images suggest, is to be a man. Martial glamour is as ancient as Achilles. It promises prowess, courage, camaraderie and historical importance. It offers a way to matter. The West once recognized the pull of martial glamour--before the carnage of World War I, the glamour of battle was a common and positive phrase--but it ignores at its peril the spell's enduring draw, especially for those who feel powerless and insignificant.

I laugh everytime I see this drink coaster. It advertises Fat Tire beer in a way that parodies all beverage ads that suggest that if you choose the right drink, you will soon find yourself surrounded by hot women dressed to kill.

We all know that holding this beer bottle does nothing for this guy’s attractiveness. Yet while we laugh about that, we also realize that we all have made numerous purchases in hopes that the product would make us more socially attractive. And some of these purchases were probably hopelessly naive.

July 02, 2013

I don’t mean Neiman Marcus Inc. -- or Bergdorf Goodman,
which it owns -- although the luxury retailer is glamorous to
many people, and it did just file for an initial public
offering.

I’m talking about Container Store Inc.

The retailer, which has 61 stores and two more opening this
fall, is known as an exemplary employer, ranking high on Fortune
magazine’s “100 Best Companies to Work For” list for 14 years
running. It avoided layoffs after the 2008 downturn. It talks a
lot about values, and its executives regularly say things like,
“We all know we’re doing more than selling a product.”

All those good feelings -- and the sales that topped $750
million last year -- depend on something every Container Store
customer knows well: The store’s merchandising is amazingly
seductive. Like a luxury retailer, the Container Store gets a
premium price for its products and persuades people to buy more
than is strictly necessary because, knowingly or not, it
traffics in glamour.

Glamour is not a synonym for luxury, celebrity or fashion.
It isn’t a style, like mirrored furniture or satin dresses. Like
humor, it’s a form of communication that elicits a distinctive
emotional response. Glamour lets us feel that the life we yearn
for is almost within our grasp. It is a powerful form of
nonverbal persuasion.

“We’re really selling not space as much as we are time,”
says Chief Executive Officer Kip Tindell. Like the sight of
chairs looking seaward on a white sandy beach or a model
strutting down a runway in the latest fashions, a walk through a
Container Store makes a customer imagine a better self in better
circumstances. With the right equipment, it suggests, your life
can be peaceful and orderly, giving you more time to relax and
enjoy yourself.

July 01, 2013

Although I love hats, I rarely wear them, partly because they're overly warm for Southern California and partly because when you need them most they have an annoying habit of blowing off. I always wondered what people did about sudden gusts in the days when hats were more common--especially at the turn of the 20th century, when women's hats were huge. I always assumed that the answer lay, as this detail from a Charles Dana Gibson illustration suggests, in large hat pins that firmly attached the latest styles to the period's similarly oversized hairdos.

But it turns out the real answer lies in another characteristic of the Gibson Girl: her existence not in real life but in pen and ink. The styles of the past look graceful because we know them from glamorous still images, in which a perfect moment has been captured and refined.

As this video from 1903 shows, in the real past, people did what they do today: They grabbed their hats and held them down, sometimes without success. The past wasn't more graceful than the present. The flaws have just been edited out.

Skimming the glossy pages of a magazine or glimpsing a flashy billboard, it’s easy to reduce glamour to mere celebrity or glitz. Yet glamour is a potent cultural force whose magic reaches far beyond the spheres of fashion or film, influencing where we choose to live, which careers we pursue, where we invest, and how we vote. Even in its most seemingly frivolous forms, despite its transient and illusory nature, glamour articulates our secret longings and exposes our true characters.

Analyzing icons from Achilles to Angelina Jolie, this is the first book that examines what glamour truly is: not an aesthetic quality or specific style, but a product of our imagination, emerging through the interaction between object and audience. Deconstructing the many iterations of glamour—from travel to battle, aviation to wirelessness, Postrel also illuminates how this pervasive phenomenon works, and in doing so, she empowers us to be smarter about how we engage with the world around us.

Aside from its intellectual content, The Power of Glamour is a beautiful object. It has more than 100 photos and will be printed in four colors on high-quality paper. At 256 pages and dimensions of 9.1 inches x 7.4 inches, it is not a coffee-table book but, rather, a "real" book that is also aesthetically pleasing--perfect for gift giving. (For the paper-averse, however, there is also a Kindle edition.)

This Weather.com slide show on “Glamour in the Skies” reminded me of another change--this one a technological improvement--that eroded airline glamour around the same time: the disappearance of the staircase in favor of safer, more weatherproof indoor jet bridges.

If you're a traveler, you'd much rather walk directly into the terminal on a more-or-less level jet bridge. But the old stairs set the traveler apart from the crowds on the ground. They created a dramatic sense of arrival and departure. And they made for lots of glamorous photographs.

Nowadays, we still occasionally see such glamorous images of people set apart from the normal life that includes occasional jet travel. Some, like the star of Fergie's "Glamorous" video, are going up and down the steps of private jets. So, in a sense, are the others. But their private jets are publicly owned.

April 18, 2013

Renaissance of Roland Barthes, an interdisciplinary conference on the late critical theorist's influence on various subjects, will be held at the CUNY Graduate Center on April 25-26, 2013 at 365 5th Avenue (btw 34th and 35th Streets), NY, NY 10065. I will be presenting on Barthes' contributions to fashion and dress theory on Thursday, April 25 in a panel from 2:15pm-3:45pm (room 8402), moderated by CUNY's chair of fashion studies, Eugenia Paulicelli.

The study of dress is a subject that,
more so than almost every other cultural discipline, has historically
been met with derision in its efforts to become a widely respected field of
academic study. Its long road to acceptance among research universities and
similar field authorities was aided in part by its examination and
interpretation by academics from other disciplines, especially during the
second half of the twentieth century. Through his cultural criticisms in the
1960s, French literary theorist Roland Barthes (1915-1980) became one of these
influential interdisciplinary figures in the developing field of fashion
theory. While Barthes was not the first theoretician to apply his particular
methods to the study of dress, with the publication of his various critical
essays, and culminating in his seminal work Le Système
delaMode (The Fashion System) in 1967, he was the
first to present an exhaustive analysis of the various connotations and
denotations evoked by the products of the fashion industry. Through his
application of the tenets of Sausserian semiology, Barthes explored the
debasement of cultural “signs” that he claimed were manifested in the language
of women’s fashion magazines, in what he termed “written clothing.”
Coincidentally, he published this new methodology at a time when, as history
would later elucidate, the evolution of fashion itself was also undergoing
radical changes. As one of the earliest commentators of various aspects of mass
culture, Barthes’s intellectual scope was far-reaching. His contributions to
the study of fashion were invaluable to the development and scholarship of
dress theory and, in the twenty-first century, his writings continue to incite
discourse on a subject that still often receives far less academic attention
than is merited by its significance to the social sciences and to a greater
understanding of human history.

April 05, 2013

Cameron Silver, the owner of the L.A. luxury vintage shop Decades, is known for dressing Hollywood stars for the red carpet, using a remarkable eye for seeing contemporary style in vintage clothing. With his book Decades: A Century of Fashion, he demonstrates the sophisticated knowledge of fashion history that undergirds his success as a retailer and stylist. A survey of 20th-century women’s fashion, the book is beautiful, but it’s also smart, recalling styles often written out of fashion chronicles. Its history of the 1970s, for instance, includes not just the sexy “satin-skinned beauties” of Studio 54 but also the “prairie-chic sensibility” of Laura Ashley's maxi dresses. Contrasting muses—Cheryl Tiegs versus Bianca Jagger, for example, or Joan Crawford's tough-minded “Consumer” versus Rita Hayworth's eye-candy “Consumed”—add further nuance, reminding readers that decades do not come with simple, one-note themes. (Google Books offers some limited previews of the book.)

Silver is also, inevitably, the co-star of a Bravo reality show called Dukes of Melrose, whose dramatic tension derives primarily from the conflict between his big-spending ways and his budget-conscious business partner Christos Garkinos. Silver thinks like a museum curator, justifying expensive purchase by their rarity and long-term potential, Garkinos like a merchant, wanting rapid stock turns. On shopping expeditions, Silver also indulges his somewhat outré personal style, picking up things like a mink sweatshirt as well as merchandise for the store. (For examples of his personal style, see Silver's Coveteur page.) I talked to Cameron Silver by phone in late February, shortly before the show's debut.

DG: What makes a garment vintage?

Cameron Silver: That's the million dollar question. Originally it was a garment that was at least 15 or 20 years old. But now with the change in fashion and designers retiring or dying or jumping ship, fashion becomes collectible much faster and can be considered vintage in a much shorter period of time.

DG: What is special about vintage fashion?

Cameron Silver: I think vintage is desirable because it is fashion with history. It is one of a kind and in a world where everything is ubiquitous, it gives you something that no one else can have. And truthfully, almost everything modern is derived from the past.

DG: There is a very literal style divide: If you were in the 1930s, you couldn't have worn clothes that were 40 years old. It would have looked absurd. But someone today can wear anything from the '20s on.

Cameron Silver: It is true. In the 21st century, we are able to look at the 20th century in a very modern way, which is one of the points of the book. You can wear anything from the last 100 years and look contemporary with the way you style it. And that is a really interesting point that you make, that one could never have done that in the 1930s. I think that is a cool point.

DG: A dress or suit or jacket can be glamorous, but aside from the specifics of a given garment, is the idea of vintage glamorous itself?

Cameron Silver: I think it is in the eye of the beholder and it really depends on what you are attracted to. My personal aesthetic is that I believe in the democratization of glamour and I like everything glamorous day to evening, and that is really what we do in the store. But just because it is vintage doesn’t mean it's glamorous. There are plenty of things from the past that would be 180 degrees from glamour.

DG: I was getting not so much at the idea that anything old would be glamorous, but whether this sort of concept of “the vintage” has itself become glamorous, at least in the eyes of certain audiences.

Cameron Silver: I think that the notion of saying something is vintage as opposed to just used gives it a certain panache. I think that is one of the reasons why the period when something is called vintage keeps getting closer and closer to present day. There is a little extra validity in saying, ‟This is vintage” as opposed to just saying, ‟This is old” or ‟This is used.” It doesn't necessarily mean it is glamorous, but it makes people feel like it is glamorous.

DG: Why has the popularity or at least the visibility of vintage fashion—whether it is high-end very glamorous sort of couture gowns that you would find at Decades or the sort of more everyday clothes that somebody might sell on Etsy—increased so much? What is the appeal?

Cameron Silver: For lack of a better definition, it is just—it is cool. It makes you seem like an insider. People who wear vintage tend to be the fashion leaders, not the followers.

I think that is the reason why so many celebs were interested in vintage initially, especially like the late '90s, early 2000s. It separated them from the pack of generic, fashionable stars. They were the ones that found and discovered something one-of-a-kind and unique, with history. A celeb in vintage really owns her style as opposed to a celeb in something borrowed from a designer. It's like, “Where did she find that dress? Who is this designer? When was it made?” It becomes a much more, in a sense, glamorous story.

——

“Vintage is desirable because it is fashion with history. It is one of a kind and in a world where everything is ubiquitous, it gives you something that no one else can have."

——

DG: Do you have favorite examples of that?

Cameron Silver: I’d say specifically Nicole Kidman, because she was an early supporter of Decades and I had felt that she really defined her persona very effectively following her divorce from Tom Cruise by wearing vintage designer clothing. We dressed her, famously, for the New York premiere of Moulin Rouge and she word this great vintage white Azzaro jersey dress and it was a brand that people had not heard of in a long time. It really sparked interest in Nicole Kidman as not just a fashionista, but as an insider, as an icon. I think vintage is very successful in pushing people's credibility in the fashion world.

DG: Is that because if you go wrong with vintage, maybe you go more wrong? Is it riskier, so that when you pull it off, you look better?

Cameron Silver: I am going to say if it was right 50 years ago, it's right today. I mean, if you are looking at vintage in a modern way. I think there are more risks in wearing modern designer clothing. You rarely see a celeb ripped to shreds in something vintage. It happens way more often when it's someone trying too hard to wear something very editorial that is off the runway.

DG: So vintage has a kind of timeless quality. Is there a generational divide? Is wearing vintage more popular with younger people?

Cameron Silver: I think a lot of people initially get that assumption that it is for the kids. But our clientele is very broad, from teen to well into their 80s. I think that it knows no age barrier. I think the notion that if you wear something that you could have worn 40 years ago that it looks wrong, I don't think that is necessarily the case.

A stylish woman can wear something that has been in her closet 40 or 50 years. And quite often, we have customers who come into the store and they're like, "I had that 30 years ago!" And they like it again. They wish they had kept it or they'd had the money to buy it then. Obviously I don't want to see an 85-year old woman in a micro-mini Alaïa, but I would love to see her in an Alaïa trench coat. Just because it is an Alaïa trench coat from the '80s doesn't mean that she can't wear it. When we are looking at vintage clothing in a very modern way, it makes it easier for any generation to shop with us.

DG: You write in your book, ‟I participate in the creation of effortless seeming glamour, acknowledging that the illusion of perfection doesn't come naturally to everybody.” The idea of the effortless is very important to the idea of glamour. What is it that people don't see?

Cameron Silver: For example, I am, on Sunday, fitting an actress who is starting a new show on ABC and we are doing like a zillion different fittings. There is so much going on. We're going to try something like 200 dresses, I bet, for four or five appearances. Things will get altered, and we are going to use every secret weapon we have. Obviously your undergarments are more important than your outer garments. So today I was schlepping, picking up stuff from stores and showrooms. The process is not necessarily glamorous. The results can be. But it takes a lot of work.

That is also a very American approach to glamour. I always look at my Parisian friends who will go to a black-tie gala and they will just wear—like woman will wear a pair of black tux pants and a little tank top and a marabou-feathered jacket and put her hair back and some sexy heels and lipstick. We are a little bit regimented in America with our glamour.

DG: I wonder how much of that is worrying about things that are going to be recorded photographically.

Cameron Silver: Yes. I have a friend Sarah DeAnna who has got a book called, Supermodel YOU. She is a very successful model and the book is about using techniques that supermodels use in every walk of your life. As we were talking about ideas for when her book comes out and marketing, I said, "Everyone is a model now because everything gets documented" in the sense that Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. Everyone needs to know how to give their best face. Nothing is candid any more. It doesn't matter who you are. If you are getting photographed, it is going to end up in some social media.

So imagine what it is like when it is ending up on a social media with 2,000 or 3,000 photographers at the Oscars. It takes a lot of extra work to kind of enter the storm.

DG: Speaking of behind the scenes, you now have a reality show, Dukes of Melrose, on Bravo. What made you want to do the show?

Cameron Silver: I agreed to do it at a very vulnerable moment. [Chuckles]

I was super burnt out. I was like, ‟OK, I'll do it.” I still question why I agreed to do it, to be perfectly honest [chuckles]. But I am hopeful that the show will ultimately be a great example of infotainment, giving an insider's experience of the world of Decades and fashion, fashion history and also be entertaining. It is also the way the industry works now. I want to keep growing, I kind of have to do it. Michael Kors did his show, Rachel Zoe has done her show.

DG: Reality shows all thrive on conflict, as does any drama, which is the opposite of effortlessness. Have you had any concerns about whether revealing that behind-the-scenes stuff, or even playing it up, would damage the glamour of Decades and the looks that you create?

Cameron Silver: For sure I have reservations about it. I'm not a producer on the show. I won't watch any of the episodes. Whatever I did, I did authentically. I am sure there will be many, many moments where I am not seen in my best light. But I think true glamour reveals its underside. And I think that, as Marlene Dietrich said, “Want to buy some illusions?” It is all illusions.

DG: Right.

Cameron Silver: And when you go behind the white swinging doors of Decades to the back office that is where sort of the Wizard of Oz bag of tricks gets revealed.

And I don't really mind that. I always liked the storm of being in the backroom. Or the fact that when you go behind the doors of Cartier, or where I used to work at Boucheron, it is not as perfect as it is on the sales floor. The beauty and magic of retail is that then you get on the floor everything is supposed to look seemingly perfect.

DG: Mystery is another key element of glamour. How does wearing vintage create mystery?

Cameron Silver: I think primarily because you just don't know what it is. The fashion pundits can't predict what you are wearing when you step out of that limo. It breeds individuality. I love the idea that all these fashion pundits at the Oscars have no idea what this actress is wearing. There is something rather intoxicating about not knowing the answers right away.

DG: In the book you tell a story about how once you were at one of these vintage shows full of, as you put it tactfully, “decidedly unspectacular merchandise” at the Santa Monica Convention Center and you found this perfect black velvet Halston gown. How often today do you find such buried treasures? Or now has the market gotten so developed that you do most of your scouting in closets of people you know have great taste?

Cameron Silver: I was at that same show at the Santa Monica Civic about two weeks ago. And I found the most gorgeous gold, sequined early '30s mermaid gown. I found the most amazing custom couture I. Magnin dress that was really like a bonded sample of Dior. I still have that eye that no one else has. So I may not find everything at that show, but I always find some gems that not everyone's eye might be accustomed to.

But I think that this gold sequined dress is the most amazing dress. It is so good. And we have a picture—it was purchased by the dealer--with the original owner, who was a radio personality, wearing it. It is so cool. And it was hanging on a hanger and I noticed it is actually extremely sexy and I couldn't believe that no one had picked up on the dress. But, you know, they just—not everyone can find the gem.

DG: So I was going to ask you whether the vintage market has developed so much that you can't find such treasures, but obviously you can.

Cameron Silver: You still can. I don't know if the layperson can do it as easily. It is not like you are going into a thrift store and finding the dress for $25. But it is still possible to find good things.

DG: Do you have to be really small to wear great vintage fashion?

Cameron Silver: Not at all. Again, I believe in the democratization of glamour. I also believe in democratization of being sexy. It is a little bit more difficult with older pieces because I think that if somebody was larger, that the clothes weren't really offered for a woman to wear of a broader size range. Nowadays it is completely different and there are so many options for a woman. I dressed Melissa McCarthy for the Oscars last year. We made a custom dress with Marina Rinaldi.

If you dress your decade, there are certain body types that work better for certain decades. Adele wears quite a bit of vintage and she is not a stick. She is deliciously curvy.

DG: You write that the '30s “made fashion unapologetically effortless” and you contrast them to the '20s. You write that “in the 1920s the rebels all looked alike,” which is interesting, but “in the 1930s, getting dressed became a mode of self-expression.” What was so special about the 1930s?

Cameron Silver: I think it's just '30s are really synonymous with the bias cut. The beauty of the bias cut is it has kind of no construction. That is one of the most effortless ways to dress. You just lift your arms in the air and let the dress slide down your body. Wear your hair up; wear your hair down. I love those '30s gowns. They are so modern looking.

DG: Do you have a favorite fashion period?

Cameron Silver: I'm very 1970s. I love it for several reasons. It is really the acceptance of American sportswear having an international audience after the great fashion showdown at Versailles 1973. American designers suddenly had an international forum to sell. I love the minimalism of the '70s. I'm a very Halston—that's very much my aesthetic. But at the same time I love Saint Laurent Russian collection. And it's really what everyone references still today, is all of those great '70s look.

DG: Is that the aesthetics of the clothes or something about their social and cultural meaning?

Cameron Silver: I love the fantasy of the '70s because it's kind of a return to Weimar, Germany. It is super decadent--you're thinking of the Studio 54 culture. It is sort of like people are acting like it is the end of the world. In a sense, to some degree, it was because the '80s came and AIDS and Reagan. Fashion in the '70s is really flamboyant yet it is often really pure.

If you look at American sportswear and in the early '70s you still have a lot of the countercultural effects of the past and then the late '70s start to be about the beginning of power dressing. I grew up in the '70s and I completely relate to them.

DG: At the conclusion of your book, you write, “As designers demonstrated over and over again via self-referential homage, they just don't make fashion the way they used to. Thank goodness they don't or I would be out of business.”

Cameron Silver: Very true.

DG: What do you mean by, “They don't make fashion like they used to”?

Cameron Silver: We live in a world of immediacy and disposable fashion, and the quality isn't there. The quality is so inconsistent. I am just amazed when I am wearing some expensive suit by an Italian or French brand and the button falls off the jacket the first time I’ve ever worn it. I think it is just crazy. So I think that quality is the main thing and also the exclusivity. It is just everything is everywhere. Every department store to me feels like I am shopping in a duty free. Shopping Barney’s in New York, the ground floor, looks no different to me than Terminal 4 at Heathrow.

DG: Is there anything that you would like to say about anything about glamour?

Cameron Silver: I have this philosophy that everyone should live their life like they are walking on a red carpet. That is not to say you need to be in a gown all the time, but there is just a certain confidence and certain—I’m trying to think—there is just a certain—I don’t know. I just think that glamour is democratic and everyone should have a little glamour in their life. It makes the world a little bit more beautiful.

Dita Von Teese is glamorous when she works out. It is possible to be glamorous all the time. You always—you will certainly attract attention if you live your life a little bit more glamorously.

April 01, 2013

Stylists often advise against dressing in a head-to-toe vintage look, which is
advice I hate. And in the same breath that people will exclaim how much they
admire vintage glamour, they say they could never do it themselves. Well, why
not? Why should the glamour of a bygone era be unachievable now? I decided long
ago to do vintage looks whenever I please, so long as they “fit” the occasion.
Though I would certainly attempt an ornate, historical era for a special
occasion, the eras I like best are the 1920s, ‘30s, and ‘40s, in particular ca.
1925 to 1945, flapper era through the war years. So I’ve chosen a few
conservative daytime looks from those eras, plucked from my Pinterest boards, that I think
are most accessible.

I would argue that the 1920s were the start of the modern
fashion era and that styles from that era forward are relevant and appropriate
for almost any modern setting. 1920s styles could be sleek and pared down or
ornate and hand-crafted, and day dresses and suits were abundant in the era. So
deciding on what 1920s looks to wear to, say, the office shouldn’t prove
difficult. For example, see this Lucien Lelong suit and
sweater ensemble. While the suit jacket is obscured in the photograph, the
skirt certainly looks simple and professional enough, with the hemline falling
just below the knee. And the sweater features a bold yet tasteful geometric
design. Though I probably would not wear the hat all day indoors, I would not
hesitate to wear this look – including the little clutch handbag and simple
chain necklace – to the office or a business meeting during a cool-weather month
in Washington, D.C., which is where I work.

See also these two mid-1930s day looks. One, a solid, light color, tea-length
skirt with a front kick pleat and self-belt with square-shaped metal buckle.
It’s paired with a solid, dark color blouse with a high color and large, statement
buttons. The shoes are dark pumps in a classic style. The second outfit is a
sailor-inspired day dress in tea length, paired with classic spectator pumps
and a smart hat. Again, I would not hesitate to wear either of these looks for
business purposes, though I would probably skip the hat and gloves unless I
wanted to go “full (vintage) drag.”

The 1940s day looks I might chose include a beige suit with
sharp shoulders, three-quarter length sleeves, and a nipped-in waist. The
matching skirt is front-pleated, with the hemline just below the knee. The
accent color of the hat, ascot, and gloves is a dark green. The hat and gloves
are a bit fussy for a modern business look, but I would do the ascot or else a
blouse underneath.

The second 1940s show four comparatively casual, daytime
looks that could be worn just about anywhere, hats optional.

Finally, I’ve included a photo of myself, just to show this can be done. I was
headed to an Art Deco Expo in 2008, wearing a 1930s day dress and hat. I’m
careful where I wear original garments, as they tend to be fragile. But the
dress I’m wearing would be fairly simple to re-create in new fabric. The
handbag was a Whiting & Davis
metal mesh in white, a fairly easy style to obtain. The jewelry was modern and
of a simple, classic style. The shoes I wore that day were modern, inexpensive
Mary Jane pumps.

The main difficulty would be in finding these vintage looks. For ornate vintage
styles and looks, there’s rarely a good substitute for the original, except for
sellers who specialize in reproducing bygone eras (such as ReVamp Vintage). For simple styles, it’s
often easier to find modern garments that look period-appropriate than to find
original vintage garments that fit and are in good condition. Personally, I mix
and match reproduction and original and sometimes sew my own. Vintage patterns
of nearly all eras seem abundant on Ebay, Etsy, and many other vendor websites.

I would be delighted to see more people incorporate vintage styles in modern
settings. I would, however, have an important word of caution on attempting
these looks. In my opinion, it’s important to approximate the hairstyles (and,
for that matter, the shoe styles) of the era one is trying to achieve. Or at
least the hair length. They clearly “go” together – which is one reason we
perceive them as so elegant and polished, no? There’s no point in doing a
head-to-toe vintage look only to ruin it with an incongruous hairstyle. Plus, it would
distract me to no end (in a bad way), and I just know (or, let me imagine) you wouldn’t want to do that to me.

March 26, 2013

Shutterstock, the huge stock-photo house, has put together an infographic displaying the trends in what its users are downloading. Its data confirm what our Vintage Week suggested: the idea of “vintage” is hot. “If you combined all the searches for ‘Cats,’ ‘Dogs,’ ‘Retro,’ and ‘Hipster,’ you still wouldn’t beat the number of searches for ‘Vintage,’” says Shutterstock.

Vintage Week is stretching into this week as well. Stay tuned for more posts.

Solanah: Everyone will give you a different answer, but I define it as anything made approximately 20-80 years from now. Antique is anything older than 80 years old, and newer than 20 is second hand.

DG: Who does wearing vintage appeal to?

Solanah: A variety of different people, whether they are interested in alternative fashion or want to outwardly express their interest in nostalgia.

DG: What do you think of mixing vintage and contemporary pieces? Do you ever wear contemporary outfits?

Solanah: I love it, and yes, I do! Though the farther I get into vintage fashion, the more difficult it is for me to mix decades. I admire it on other people, but often find myself feeling a bit “off”. Lately I’ve been trying for a more classic look by mixing vintage and modern garments. And I do wear modern jeans and cozy sweaters pretty regularly. I’ve been loving some classic/modern fashions lately and hope to balance some with my vintage wear.

DG: Beyond the character of any specific garment, is there something glamorous about the idea of “vintage”?

Solanah: There is something glamorous about vintage, and I think it reaches back to the image women used to live up to. It was very glam, very ideal, especially if you’re talking about the mid-century. Even in camping gear women were supposed to be perfectly coiffed and pretty. At that time it was oppressive, but I think women are starting to own glamorization again. They choose it because it makes them feel good, not because they are expected to be glamorous 24/7.

DG: You’ve said that you “love to be authentic” in your style. What makes your style authentic?

Solanah: For me it means “real.” Not so much about having all the items in an outfit perfect, right down to the correct dates, but more of wearing things the way women wore them originally. And wearing what they really wore, not what Hollywood portrayed. I love slacks, and sweaters with the sleeves rolled up, and comfortable shoes like loafers and flat boots. For me, that’s authentic, because I feel more connected to the everyday woman.

DG: Some people treat vintage as an overall fashion look, some as a lifestyle, and some as simply the characteristic of a given piece. What’s your approach?

Solanah: I would say a little of each! For me it can and often does take over my entire outfit, and others it’s and accent, or a nod to yesteryear. As far as lifestyle goes, I have adapted some old fashioned ways of life into the modern world.

DG: What does dressing in vintage mean to different groups of people? To you?

Solanah: It can mean very different and often opposing things to different people. Some people, mostly those in western religious communities, view it as a traditional, and modest form of dress. It re-enforces traditional gender rolls. This situation seems like a minority.

For the most part vintage is a rebellion against the negative aspects of modern society. Not to be confused with completely turning back the clock, but rather bringing forward the attractive, and leaving the negative behind. Lately fashion had quite a few hiccups, when viewed objectively it’s so confusing and really has no collective foundation. I think people crave clarity and originality, and vintage fulfills that. It’s also something that is obtainable for all social classes, it can be found in high end boutiques, or discount thrift stores.

DG: What are some of your favorite vintage garments?

Solanah: Casual wear is my favorite find. Slacks, denim, sweaters, and coat. Though I have a huge and never ending collection of 1940s hats, I just can’t say no to them.

DG: In 20 years, today’s clothes will be vintage, at least by some definitions. Can you imagine yourself wearing any of them in 2033?

Solanah: This is a really tough question, because on one hand we have so much in terms of clothing, it’s difficult to imagine it being treated the same way we treat vintage clothing today. Right now much of our decades of clothing is rare. It was made of natural fibers, which can decay and be recycled, these garments have an expiration date. But clothing today is completely different. The fibers are so synthesized or combined with natural fibers, there really is no organic circle of life for these garments. We’ll have them for much longer than what we’ve been previously accustomed to, and I think they may come back into our wardrobes as necessity more than anything. What else are we going to do with all these garments? They won’t die.

DG: Is wearing vintage more popular among younger people (however you want to define “younger”)? If so, why?

Solanah: I think simply because people don’t want to look like they’re still wearing fashions from their heyday. It can be difficult to pull off, but honestly I think the older you get, the better you can wear vintage! I’ll always remember an elderly woman I saw walking down the street who was dressed to the nines in a 60s suit, pillbox hat, and matching gloves, pumps, and purse. She was the best!

DG: What’s your favorite era? Is that because of the styles, the history, the culture, or some combination?

Solanah: My favorite era can be defined as the years controlled by the second world war. It appeals to me for so many reasons, much of it not being fashion related. Mostly to do with the short taste of liberation women experienced, and the strength they showcased before being forced back into the home. I admire what they did with what little they had, and how they dealt with the hardships and tragedies. This was reflected in the styles adapted, I really love the make do and mend and DIY aspect of the war era, as it’s something I can be creative with.

DG: You’re well known not only for writing about vintage fashion but for modeling it in fashion shoots on your own site and also for the store you used to work for (that’s actually how I first became aware of you). What’s the secret to a good vintage fashion picture? How important are the poses you strike to how you feel about the outfit?

Solanah: In our shoots we tried to emulate a lot of original fashion portraits from magazines and ads. They really showcased the garments well, and I think there’s a certain strength in “striking a pose”, rather than the very casual, candid poses we see a lot of today.

DG: What do people who wear vintage fashion have in common (if anything)?

Solanah: The most obvious is a love for the past, but I have found many vintage enthusiasts are very involved in various forms of fantasy, fiction, and escapism. Or “geeky” interests, if I could put it simply. Fantastical television shows and movies, comic books, anything that diverts away from the confines of the modern world. I think it has to do with how different people deal with the pressures of modern living, there are those who adapt well and embrace it, and those who need to step back and slow down.

DG: Wearing vintage every day seems like a lot of work--just for the hair styling alone. What’s the most challenging part? Time-consuming? Satisfying?

Solanah: It can look as though that’s the case, but compared to a modern woman’s beauty regimen, it probably takes about the same amount of time and effort. Most vintage wearing women do wet sets at night and wake up with curls. Whereas a non-vintage woman might spend most of her morning curling or straightening her hair with a heat device. When I do that it takes me about a minute or two to do my hair in the morning, but looks like it took an hour. It takes the same amount of time to get dressed comparatively, and I keep my makeup simple: tinted moisturizer, eyeliner, powder, lipstick. I do love getting dressed up, in stockings and hats, and heels for lunch with friends or a cocktail party. Feeling that kind of glamorous is nice every now and then, the kind where you really put in effort and it shows.

DG: Who inspires your look?

Solanah: Fellow vintage lovers, WWII women workers, old family photos, really any “real” people. I don’t take much inspiration from the airbrushed publicity shots of movie stars, because that type of style just isn’t a huge part of my lifestyle.

DG: Who do you consider glamorous?

Solanah: The type of women who has a certain something alluring and enchanting. She doesn’t necessarily have to look glamorous, or live a glamorous life, but she does hold her head high and has the confidence of an individual in charge of their own life and loving it.

March 19, 2013

A few years ago, I found myself in an artist's studio in central Baltimore, browsing a collection of vintage mahogany gear molds the artist found in an abandoned warehouse somewhere in the city.
That day, I took home one of the molds – it's now mounted in my dining room – and a reminder that the sad photos of decrepit factories and boarded up houses only tell part of the story.

Baltimore has a history of innovative approaches to real estate problems. In the seventies, the Dollar House Program led to the revitalization of several neglected parts of the city (some of which are now Baltimore's most popular – and pricey – communities).
More recently, a vibrant architectural salvage industry has sprung up around the city. In addition to small, focused operations, like the artist I found selling those restored gear molds, Baltimore his home to several impressive architectural salvage organizations.

These organizations collect furniture, artifacts, and architectural elements from buildings that are slated for destruction or renovation. They usually pay for what they collect, but also provide a service by removing some of the stuff from the building.

The salvage companies then resell the goods, either as-is or after some cleaning and/or repurposing. (The NatGeo show "Abandoned" follows a Pennsylvania architectural salvage company through the whole process.)

One of Baltimore's best known salvage operations is Housewerks, a carefully curated shop (and workshop) located in a nineteenth century building that once housed the Chesapeake Gas Works. Owners Tracey Clark and Ben Riddleberger scout the city (and beyond) for furniture and architectural components that are interesting – and glamorous. (The surroundings at Housewerks are dramatic enough that the space is frequently rented out for parties and weddings.)

"There's such an elegance to old pieces that isn't in evidence today," says Meg Fairfax Fielding, the author of the Pigtown Design blog, and a close friend of Clark and Riddleberger.
"It's about buying the elegance, craftsmanship and workmanship of a bygone age. Even in the most mundane industrial pieces, you find beautiful patterns engraved on the gears, or an elegant swoop to a leg of a work table. There was much more care taken when making and designing an old industrial piece."

Baltimore artist Sean O'Harra turns salvaged materials into gorgeous furniture and home accessories, all of which are imbued with a sense of history, thanks to the reclaimed wood and metals he chooses.
"Old materials, like old growth woods, have more character," he explains. "Sometimes they're filled with nails and they might be hard to work with, but they have a better feel. It's like they had a past life."

O'Harra and Fielding agree that people are drawn to the inherent glamour of vintage materials, whether they're raw or have been reworked to create something new. "We're honoring our past and what came before us," says Fielding.

But both add warnings. Fielding notes that, like so many other things that are glamorous on the surface, architectural salvage requires a great deal of dirty, gritty work for both sellers and shoppers. "You have to be willing to pick through stacks of old marble, old bathtubs and old mirrors to find the piece you are looking for," she says. "Most salvage yards are filthy!"

O'Harra's concerns relate to the popularity of vintage materials and what that means for quality. "A lot of antique shops and pickers jumped on this bandwagon and make things that people see as interesting. But a lot of times, I think there's not a good marriage between materials. People eat it up because it's aged, but it doesn't always look aesthetically pleasing to me."

O'Harra also laments the increased popularity of newly made objects with a vintage look, which is at odds with his environmentally-conscious approach to reusing materials. "A lot of what you see is not vintage – it's recast materials made with new wood. That's not the right thing. These are one-off objects that shouldn't be mass-produced."

There's no doubt that architectural salvage has been good for Baltimore as a city and good for the individuals on both ends of the salvage transactions.

But together, O'Harra and Fielding's comments raise good questions: What would happen if a company mass-produced vintage "style" furniture while adopting a careful, detail-oriented, old-fashioned approach to construction?

Is that combination - mass-production and high-quality construction - even feasible?

And would it be a good thing overall? Or would it detract from the glamour of true vintage pieces?

March 18, 2013

Born in 1965, Liza D., the proprietor of the two-year-old online shop Better Dresses Vintage, grew up in the New York suburbs as the daughter of an advertising copywriter (“a real-life ‘Mad Man,’” she says). “Growing up,” she says, “the emphasis was on education, the arts, and manners. My mom was a very strong influence. She taught me about taste, and all aspects of etiquette.” An accomplished seamstress, her mother also taught Liza how to recognize and appreciate quality garments—knowledge that she now turns to hunting for vintage treasures. (Here she wears a 1950s sundress at home.)

DG: How did you get into the vintage business?

Liza: My lifelong appreciation of all things lovely, old-fashioned, and well-made led me to buy and wear vintage clothing. Not exclusively or every day, but enough to seek it out as both superior to, and more affordable than, most modern options.

After having my first child, I left my full-time position as a medical journalist at WebMD, and began doing part-time contract writing and editing from home. I'm also a ballet teacher, although I haven't taught for a while and miss it terribly. Anyway, as I continued to shop for and enjoy vintage clothing, I noticed the growing popular interest, and realized I could turn my longtime hobby into a business. I was fortunate enough to be able to reduce my contract work, and focus on researching all aspects of starting up an online shop. Of course, the best part of the process was acquiring the stock! Everybody loves treasure hunting. And I enjoy meeting people and hearing their stories.

DG: Who are your customers?

Liza: I'd say there are two main groups, with plenty of overlap: the youngsters who think vintage clothes are "cooler," and the oldsters (including me) who know vintage clothes are "better." The younger customer wants to be hip. The older customer wants to recapture a look and feel which they may, in fact, have never experienced firsthand. But they know there's a certain sense of elegance, of propriety, of beauty, that you cannot get from a "Real Housewives" dress. They are looking for glamour.

My customers range in age from tweens to retirees, with the bulk falling somewhere in the middle (college- to middle-age). What I find most wonderful is that they come from around the world, with half of my sold items heading to the UK, Scandinavia, Europe, Asia, and Australia.

Liza: Good question! And one that generates heated debate among those of us who deal with, and in, vintage! I think we agree that the defining factor is the generational difference. Items from an earlier generation are vintage, items from the current one are not. But what's a generation? That depends which dictionary you consult. Sure, it's the span between parents and their children, but is that 20, 25, or 30 years? For me, it would be 35-40+ years!

Personally, I consider true vintage to be at least 25 years old. Online selling venues (eBay, Etsy, et al.) use a more liberal definition. Some venues, in an attempt to cash in on its recent surge in popularity, are suggesting vintage be defined as 10 years or older! But these venues are using the term as just another key word—a tag meant to generate search-engine hits and increase profits. The more they can lower the standard and expand the definition, the better for their bottom line. Sure, we sellers want to make money, but those of us who appreciate the difference between true vintage and old clothes are using the word "vintage" differently. For us, it's a meaningful descriptor, not merely a search term.

DG: Whom does wearing vintage appeal to?

Liza: 1) Those who appreciate quality. Most, if not all, garments produced a generation (or more) ago were of superior quality to those produced today. Even the most pedestrian items, intended for and marketed to working-class people, were made to last. If a dress or skirt or shirt has survived wearing and washing for 50 years, there's a very good chance it will survive a good while more, without too much effort or special care. If you have $60 to spend on an outfit, how should you spend it? You can buy the hot new trend at the mall or local big box, and wear it a few times until it falls apart, or starts to look weird because the seams have shifted or the fabric pilled in the wash. Or, you can take that money and buy yourself the vintage version—one that not only inspired the current trend, but will probably be around, looking just as good, the next time that trend rolls around.

2)Those who value individuality. It's everyone's fashion fear—showing up at an event in the same outfit as someone else. With vintage clothing, the chances of this happening are very slim, indeed. In a way, wearing vintage is like having your own unique, custom-made wardrobe—only much more affordable. And savvy vintage shoppers know that you can be "on-trend" in vintage as easily as you can in cheaply made, or prohibitively expensive, modern equivalents. Check out the Vintage Fashion Guild's Vintage Inspiration series to see how today's hottest trends are inspired by vintage.

3) Those who appreciate designer quality, but not designer prices. Most of us can't afford a couture gown or even a ready-to-wear designer outfit. But if it's style and quality, not conspicuous consumption, you're after, then vintage is a terrific option. Yes, it's true that label-conscious vintage shoppers have upped the demand for certain vintage brands to the point they are no longer affordable to the average buyer. But there is still plenty of top-notch vintage to go around. And if you're willing to look beyond a particular label, logo, or designer, you can get the quality and craftsmanship you seek at a fraction of the cost.

4) Those concerned about the environment and social justice. Vintage is the embodiment of "Reduce, Reuse, Recycle." Why buy new, when you can get a better-quality, made-to-last garment that's uniquely yours (and, more often than not, was Union-made under fair labor laws right here in the U.S.A.)? Time and again we hear about the deplorable conditions in overseas garment factories. Who wants to wear something made by underpaid, overworked children? Not me. And not my customers. Vintage clothing is entirely guilt free.

DG: What inspired the name and logo for Better Dresses?

Liza: Oh, that's easy. The entire story is on my "About Us" page. Here’s the relevant portion [slightly edited because the photos were rearranged—vp]:

Wondering where the store got its name? Well, some of you may be too young to remember, but not that long ago, any fine store that sold a variety of goods had a Better Dresses department. A few still do. Here are mid-century photographs, peering into the better dresses department at two different stores. The one on the left is somewhere is in suburban New Jersey, the one on the right in the mid-west. Neither a location associated with the finer things in life. Yet each, to me, could be a glimpse into heaven.

Our logo was inspired by this photo of a fashionable young woman walking in front of the famous Barbizon Hotel in Manhattan (having stayed there myself I can tell you, you need a waistline that tiny to fit comfortably in their rooms)

I have no idea who she is, where she's headed, or why she's there. But she perfectly captured the mid-century look and feel I wanted for my shop, so I based my logo around her.

DG: Is wearing vintage more popular among younger people (however you want to define “younger”)? If so, why?

Liza: I’d say that the more recent decades are most popular with younger customers, probably because, as mentioned above, those years just before they were born are seen as "the good old days" and carry a certain cache or hipness as a result. And of course, popular TV series such as Mad Men (60s) and Downton Abbey(10s), and movies such as Titanic (10s) and The Great Gatsby(20s) have a strong influence on current trends. No one likes to be trendy more than young people, and the more adventurous, and savvy, among them want the real thing. So they seek out what could be called "trendy vintage."

DG: What do people who wear vintage fashion have in common (if anything)?

In general, I'd say that most people who wear vintage fashion have a respect for and curiosity about history beyond their own generation, and a desire to be different and stand out from the crowd (not necessarily in a "look at me" or outrageous sort of way). For example, the prom dress buyers. They might be looking for something a bit more modest than what's available at the mall, or they might want that extra bit of confidence from knowing that no classmate will show up in an identical dress.

DG: Beyond the character of any specific garment, is there something glamorous about the idea of “vintage”?

Liza: Absolutely. Vintage, particularly mid-century and earlier, connotes glamour—both real and imagined. Every generation romanticizes the past. And not just any past, but very specifically, the time just before we were born. Those years, we argue, were "the good old days." And while the idealized version of the 1950s, say, may not stand up to scrutiny when it comes to politics or social justice, the clothes actually were better. You'd be hard pressed to find a garment today, at any price, that compares in quality with a utilitarian mid-century garment from your hometown Sears. So when we see a 1950s advertisement of a wasp-waisted model impeccably dressed and impossibly poised, we may be misguided in romanticizing her mid-century life as glamorous, but we're dead on about the superiority of her clothes. They really were spectacular. They were glamorous. Today's offerings just don't compare.

DG: Whom do you consider glamorous?

The usual iconic old-Hollywood movie stars, of course. Greta Garbo, Grace Kelly and Cary Grant all come immediately to mind. But for me, my mom, with her elegance, poise, and style, has always been the embodiment of glamour.

Liza's glamorous mom

DG: Some people treat vintage as an overall fashion look, some as a lifestyle, and some as simply the characteristic of a given piece. What’s your approach?

Liza: Well, as I mention in this blog post, I caution against head-to-toe vintage. Sure, we're free to dress as we see fit, but personally, I do not want to look like an out-of-work actress seeking a role in a 40s film noir or a 70s Blaxploitation film. My simple solution? Mix vintage with modern, or wear all vintage but keep the grooming and accessories current. For example, if you're wearing a 1940s dress and shoes, I'd probably steer clear of bright red lipstick and a victory rolls hairstyle. People are consistently surprised when I tell them that the dress or skirt I'm wearing is vintage. When it's mixed with modern pieces and contemporary styling, they don't know it's vintage, they just know they like it.

As for a vintage lifestyle, I'm not sure what that means. If it's about graceful living and gracious manners, and an emphasis on analog over digital interactions, I'm all for it. If it's about eschewing equal rights or avoiding Novocaine, count me out. I have no great desire to wash my family's clothes on a washboard, nor am I ready to give up my remote control or my right to vote. I could easily live without my cell phone, but I'm not ready to isolate myself from modern society and popular culture, or to actually live in the 1950s.

DG: What’s your personal style?

Liza: I wish I had one! Truth is, I like several different looks, from flowy and feminine to traditional and tailored. I suppose that my overall goal is to look polished. I can usually pull it off when I dress up, taking the time to get things just so. But day-to-day, in jeans and a fitted t-shirt, it's tougher. And the older I get, the more challenging it becomes. I can no longer jump straight into enhancement. These day, I find I'm spending a good deal of time on triage.

I admire people who, regardless of the particular fashions they prefer, manage to always look appropriate, and somehow effortlessly “done.” My mom used to comment on this. Her favorite example was Johnny Carson, whom she described as looking as if he'd just been dry-cleaned.

The key, of course, is tailoring. If your body is reined in appropriately (think “foundation garments”), and your clothes fit perfectly, you’ll look pulled together. Price, labels, none of that matters. And never underestimate the power of good posture.

DG: You have a wall of customer photos on your site. What’s their purpose? How do you choose them?

Liza: The main purpose is to show potential customers that real people, living normal lives, can and do incorporate vintage clothing into their modern wardrobes with great success. But mostly, I just love to see the clothes on happy customers, and I think they like to see themselves there, as well. The only photos I don't post are ones that for whatever reason would be inappropriate in some manner, or potentially counterproductive. Here's a perfect example that didn't make the customer photos wall, but got its own blog post.

It's the same challenge we face in buying and wearing modern clothes—the fit. With vintage, you start at an advantage, as vintage clothing was made to flatter the body, not to present well on a hanger. But, you still need to know your measurements. Not the ones you wish you had, or think you have, but the ones you actually have.

Next, you must realize that unless you happen to have identical proportions to the manufacturer's fit model, nothing you buy off the rack—vintage or modern—will fit perfectly. It can happen, but it's unlikely. With certain garments—those with lots of stretch or meant to fit loosely—it's not an issue. But with anything tailored, a precision fit is key. It's the difference between you wearing the clothes, and the clothes wearing you. It's how you achieve that polished look.

You need to know your body—both the measurements and the proportions (long torso? narrow shoulders? wide hips?). And you need to know the basics of what can and can't be altered at reasonable cost by your local seamstress or tailor. This is crucial, because knowing that certain garments can be altered to fit you perfectly really changes the way you feel about shopping. Many of the things you might love, but wouldn't have bought because the measurements were slightly off, now become possibilities. And given the comparatively low cost of vintage clothing, even adding in some pricier alterations won't undo the savings.

I have nearly everything I buy (both vintage and modern) altered to fit me better. The difference it makes, for not much money, is incredible. Take my advice, and go have every dowdy, straight skirt in your closet pegged. It will set you back $5-$10 a pop, and you'll instantly look and feel like a million bucks. You can read about that here. Same goes for baggy jackets, or dresses with an unflattering hemline or sleeve length.

DG: What do you look for when you’re scouting for items for your shop?

Liza: I look for age, condition, quality, uniqueness, and desirability. I've become increasingly choosy over time, and I now can easily leave behind items I might have taken with me in the past. I buy lots of things that are not necessarily personal favorites, but that I can easily imagine on a friend or former customer. If it's interesting, fun, unusual, or just a great example of a particular era, I'll get it for the shops. If not, I'll leave it for someone else. I am not motivated by labels. Sometimes a label is a sure indicator of quality. More often, it's a sure indicator that you're paying too much, and are being taken advantage of. I know quality when I see it. It doesn't necessarily come with a particular label attached.

DG: Any stories of great finds?

Liza: Lots! But more than individual items, my stories are about the experiences I've had while on the hunt. Sure, I've found a true gem here and there—a well-known label or particularly desirable item. But I am much more enamored of the people I've encountered, and the stories I've heard, than of any individual item. I've blogged about a couple of these already, and intend to write more in the future. Here are a couple of the stories: Queen of the 60s Shift Dress and That's About It for the Clothes, Do You Want to See My Donkeys?

Still to come is the tale of my time spent with Mrs. H, the Woman With 400 Long-Sleeved Blouses, and my most recent encounter with a fun and wacky local vintage seller moving out of state and wanting to offload her mountains of stock. I bought 99 items from her, and barely made a dent.

DG: What’s your favorite era? Is that because of the styles, the history, the culture, or some combination?

Liza: I have two favorite fashion eras: 1) late 1870s to early 1880s, with the smooth, princess silhouette and minimal bustle:

2) the late 1940s to early 1960s (mid-century, from New Look to Mad Men):

As for culture, I’d welcome a return to a more mannered, and even a slower-paced way of life. And remember not having to worry that anything and everything we say and do can be made instantaneously and irretrievably public? Today, you have to be on guard in a way that's entirely new, and more than a little anxiety provoking. Everyone makes mistakes. We fall down, we say stupid things, we do foolish things in our youth (and beyond). But nowadays, these gaffes, which until fairly recently would simply vanish with the passage of time and lack of a permanent record, are eternal, and can easily end a career or ruin a life.

The notion that previous eras were culturally or historically superior, however, with no real problems of consequence, is pure fantasy. No, I don’t want to live in a time of slavery, or when women were considered chattel, or when it was a crime to be gay. This is just scratching the surface, of course, but the good old days weren’t all good. The clothes were great, yes, but I can still wear them. And if you can sew, you can make them. We needn’t go backward.

No, I’d rather stay in the present. I would, however, like it very much if these three things could be undone:

1) the new and misguided educational tenet that self-esteem is more important than service to and respect for others

2) the policy change that shifted network news from a public service to a revenue stream, resulting in “if it bleeds it leads” and creating the terrifying illusion that we live in constant danger, culminating in today’s over-supervised, perpetually dependent children and that most loathsome of all modern phrases: “play date”

3) 9/11

That would be just about perfect.

DG: What’s your most glamorous place?

I love Bergdorf Goodman. It's elegant, sparkly, serene. It's luxurious, but not ostentatious. [In the photo to the right, Liza tries on an $8,000 gown at Bergdorf's, just for fun.] Much of Manhattan is glamorous. Even the grittier areas are made glamorous by the constant, purposeful bustle of industry. More places: The Waldorf Astoria. The Chrysler Building. The lobby of the Woolworth Building. Just exquisite. Oh, and the TWA terminal at JFK (if you can just imagine out the sweats-and-Crocs-clad modern travelers). These are places where you should feel uncomfortable if you're not nicely dressed. Oh, and Paris, of course.

On a personal note, the single most glamorous place I have ever been is the kitchen of a friend's parents' home, many years ago, in the late evening. Everything in the uncluttered, darkened space spoke of a life of incomparable glamour and privilege. The Lear Jet catalog on the otherwise empty counter. The pristine, sparklingly bright refrigerator, containing only a large, cut-crystal bowl of fruit salad, a bottle of champagne, a jar of capers, and waiting for the maid on the top shelf, a silver tray holding a bowl of raisin bran and a tiny pitcher of milk. With no other options, we were forced to drink the champagne.

March 14, 2013

In a 1912 New York Timesarticle bylined Margaine Lacroix, the designer who only four years earlier had shocked Paris with her sexy dresses opined on the question, "Do Women Like Eccentric Clothes?" She argued that they do not. "Now, as ever, the woman of society does not wear bizarre clothes," she wrote.

You will say, are not the great Parisian houses, or at any rate a number of them, turning out numbers of extraordinary eccentricity? You are quite right. They are. And to that I can only reply that those models are created but not worn...

[T]he eccentric models one sees belong to the same order of things as those strange and beautiful birds one hears about in tropical countries. Glittering and beautiful with all the colors of the rainbow they die in a day or, in other words, they are exported. Then, stripped of their peculiarly bewildering eccentrities, they are modified to form the new fashion.

These daring gowns suggest new ideas, evoke new fashions, but in their entirety no woman of good taste accepts them. If an actress wears them, perhaps, occasionally, she does so only on the stage. I speak, of course, of the actresses who stand high, not of those aspirants to fame who do not care how they are remarked if only they are noticed.

Margaine Lacroix worked within--and celebrated--the then-fashionable curvy silhouette. "Would it be rational to suppose that women would cover up that hard-earned grace with eccentriticies that could not show it to advantage," she wrote. "In short, the silhouette--that is what women want to-day, and they put it above all else, certainly far above the bizarre."

Are we in our narrow skirts less free than our grandmothers in crinoline? Unless we stupidly exaggerate the skirt we are indeed much freer, and exaggeration, as I have said, the woman of taste avoids scrupulously.

In short, the women of taste in general do not care for the bizarre, and if caprice drives some of them to it they quickly weary and come back to the rule that a lady does not like to be stared at.

Poiret's eccentricity and flamboyance gave him a place in fashion history, eclipsing the once-famous Margaine Lacroix. But it was Coco Chanel, with a simplicity that would have been strange to both of them, who sensed where fashion and culture were really headed.

Left off the Racked list, because she's largely been forgotten, was the pioneering pre-World War I designer Jeanne Margaine-Lacroix, known in her day simply as Margaine-Lacroix. Susie Ralph, a British fashion historian, is engaged in a one-woman crusade to restore this once-prominent designer to her rightful place in history. Here, introducing an exhibit on Margaine-Lacroix, she explains how the designer's skintight, corsetless designs shocked Paris in 1908:

In 1908 Jeanne Margaine-Lacroix sent three mannequins to the Longchamp race-course clad in her form-revealing robes-tanagréennes. These corsetless dresses caused a sensation among Paris’ fashionable crowd - a riot according to some newspaper reports. Worn without corsets and slit to the knee on one side over the most transparent of underskirts, their impact on the fashion world was instantaneous and resulted in major press coverage not only in Paris but around the world. In today's parlance the style immediately "went viral"....It was Margaine-Lacroix’s daring vision that brought to an end the ideal of the rigidly corseted hour-glass figure, and ushered in the new, slim twentieth century silhouette.

Although worn without corsets, Margaine-Lacroix's dresses were anything but baggy. They were cut and seamed to give the wearer va-va-va-voom curves. “For Mae West,” wrote Colette in a 1938 essay on the star, “the age of vice is not 1900 but 1907 or ’08: the era of giant hats made popular by Lantelme, the clinging dresses of Margaine-Lacroix.”

For all their raciness, Margaine-Lacroix's designs captured the imaginations of mainstream critics like Mrs. Jack May of the British weekly The Bystander. “From no single aspect does this elegance offend the eye, the exquisite simplicity of the silhouette affording the absolute relief and pleasure,” she wrote of the dress to the right. “Carried out in the delicate green of a young sapling leaf, the harmony undisturbed, save for a great butterfly motif worked in padded relief in Egyptian colourings, few women would be ale to resist the claims of so persuasive a possession.”

For more on Margaine-Lacroix, watch Susie Ralph's lecture here (the intro is in Italian, but the lecture is in English).

Last month I had
the great pleasure of patronizing the beautifully curated costume exhibition Katharine Hepburn: Dressed for Stage and Screen,
in a seemingly unlikely venue for such a topic: the New York Public
Library. The exhibition was organized by the Kent State University Museum, which was given 700 items from Hepburn's estate several years after her passing in 2003 at the age of 96. (The museum is renowned for its extensive costume collection, which contains more than 40,000 objects.) In collaboration with the NYPL, the exhibition included not only many of the costumes from the actress's long career in stage, film,
and television, but also examples of the casual everyday wardrobe that helped solidify her as an icon of “rebel chic.”

The fashion and costume designers
represented in the exhibition were a veritable who’s who of Hollywood names: Valentina, Howard Greer, Muriel King, Irene, and Cecil Beaton,
to name a few. Exhibited alongside garments and accessories were other film and stage ephemera such as posters, playbills, lobby cards, and even a makeup kit used by Hepburn, with various brushes, lipsticks, and Max Factor concealor still inside.

Black silk evening gown by Walter Plunkett, worn by Hepburn as Amanda Bonner in 'Adam's Rib' [MGM, 1949]; Kent State University Museum, KSUM 2010.12.4, Gift of the Estate of Katharine Hepburn. Designed to accent her 20" waist, this gown was colored red by the MGM publicity department for the lobby card, right.

One of the most important points the exhibition illustrated was Hepburn's
high level of involvement in crafting her characters' wardrobes. More than many of her contemporaries, Hepburn was acutely aware of the importance of dress not only to the characters she portrayed but to the overall storyline as well. She worked closely with the designers of her film and stage ensembles (famed costume designer Edith Head once remarked that one "did not design for her," but "with her") and she even made sketches of her own costume designs. The muticolored pastel silk organza gown by Valentina that she wore as Jamie Coe Rowan in the 1942 film Without Love was one of many dresses that Hepburn personally
sketched, noting details of the fabric choice, the construction, and how
the skirt "simply floated."

Hepburn was also known to sketch self-portraits of herself as the characters she played. These captured the qualities she wanted to convey with each. Among the sketches included in the exhibition was her watercolor self-rendering as Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel, whom she played in the stage musical Coco (1969). Chanel was a hardworking couturière who was known for her stern personality, and this trait is skillfully conveyed by Hepburn's characterization.

Cream silk georgette and crêpe de Chine nightgown by Irene, Kent State University Museum, KSUM A2010.12.3, Gift of the Estate of Katharine Hepburn.

Also of particular
note was how meticulously well-crafted and in rather good condition many of these garments were, such as this shirred and appliquéd cream silk georgette and crêpe de Chine nightgown designed by Irene and worn by Hepburn as Mary Matthews in State of the Union (MGM, 1948). As
any designer for the stage or screen will tell you, this is not always the case. Between the forgiving eye of the camera (or the forgiving distance of
the audience from the stage) and the many retakes and rehearsals, the film and
theatre costumes in museum collections are notorious for their shabbiness. But even from behind a wall of Plexiglas, it was clear that much
care had been put into their detailed construction. This is no doubt also a
reflection of how involved Hepburn was in the process of designing and creating
them, and of the high standard to which she worked. As the exhibition text noted,
she often had recreations of her costumes made for her everyday wardrobe, so it
is no surprise that they were made to stand the test of time.

Slacks and jodhpurs worn by Katharine Hepburn at the NYPL. Image credit: The Associated Press.

Of course no clothing exhibition of Katharine Hepburn's would be complete without at least a passing mention of her well-known preference for trousers in her everyday life. The exhibition included many pairs of slacks and jodhpurs skillfully installed on half-mannequins in poses that playfully evoked her unabashed preference for this masculine style, when it was still unheard of for women to express such sartorial sentiments.

With four Academy Awards for Best Actress (and eight additional Oscar nominations), Katharine Hepburn remains the most decorated actress in American film history. Even ten years after her passing, she continues to charm the public with her style, wit, and enduring performances. As noted
in the exhibition brochure, perhaps Calvin Klein summed up Hepburn’s mass
appeal best when he presented her with the CFDA’s Lifetime Achievement Award in 1985: “She
has truly epitomized the ultimate American woman. She’s vibrant, she’s
outspoken, she’s hardworking and she’s independent…and, fortunately for all of
us, she’s never been afraid to be comfortable.”

(Note: The
exhibition opened to the public in October 2012, and three months is the
generally accepted upper limit on exhibitions featuring costumes and textiles
because of their fragility, so the exhibition closed in January 2013. But, you
can still download a PDF copy of the handsomely illustrated exhibition brochure
here).

January 28, 2013

Unobtainium. The exotic, unobtainable, and probably mythic
substance sought by scientists that would make a resounding breakthrough and success
of the scientific endeavor at hand. Borrowing that concept from science, it’s
interesting to realize that some of the glamorous things we desire give a
convincing illusion of attainability but are, instead, wholly unobtainable.

Consider Belgian artist Isabelle de
Borchgrave’s elaborate gowns copied from some 300 years of high fashion, ca.
late 17th to the early 20th century. Even the most elaborate of original fabric gowns
from those eras are, theoretically, wearable. Certainly recreatable, in
approximate respects. But de Borchgrave’s gowns are made of papier-mâché! Life-size, three-dimensional, authentic-looking
gowns, robes, and jackets. And shoes – delightful faux-brocade pumps and
slippers.

A close look at these gowns, featured in Prêt-à-Papier: The Exquisite Art of Isabelle de Borchgrave, a recent exhibit at the Hillwood Estate in Washington, D.C.,
revealed the intricate workmanship of the drape, prints, trims, and ornamentation.
The heavy drape of an opulent taffeta, perhaps. The gossamer lightness of voile.
The impressive illusion of fabric fitted atop hoops and panniers. In certain
respects, the de Borchgrave gowns are perhaps more impressive than the
originals in that the artist had to not only design, cut and assemble the gowns
but also fashion and paint the “fabric.” Each piece is painstakingly
crushed, ironed, painted, cut, and constructed. It looks just as if a
wearer could be fitted into these splendid fashions by a lady’s maid, or more
simply slip into one of the sheath 1920s frocks by Poiret, Lanvin, and Redfern of London. (Virginia wrote about a 2009 exhibit of de Borchgrave's Italian Renaissance gowns here.)

Papier-mâché can be made into wearable, if not especially durable, costumes and masks. The de Borchgrave gowns were not made for that.

Yet, one wants to wear these dresses, designed,
as they originally were, for human beings - or at least see someone else wear them.
File under “impossible fantasy” because, alas, they are fantasies made of papier-mâché.

(For another, more conceptual take on paper fashion, see
also: Petra Storrs
on Pinterest and YouTube.)

December 31, 2012

Glamour icon? London-based model, DJ, and scene-maker Alejandro Gocast is making an impressive go at that status. I first stumbled across Gocast on Facebook, as part of the revived New Romantic club scene in London that I’ve long admired and written about here on DeepGlamour. Arising in the early 1980s, the New Romantics represented a creative, dressed-to-impress music and style movement, post-punk, post-disco. Now, more than 30 years later, Gocast is one of a new generation of New Romantic club kids. And he cuts a spectacular image in modeling and club photos. I interviewed him exclusively for DeepGlamour.

CH: How do you describe what
you do? I think of you as a model, a glamorous nightclub personality, and a DJ.
But give DG a fuller picture of what you do?

Gocast: I would describe my
career as an eclectic one. As well as being known for what you have mentioned
in the London
scene, I also have a career in luxury events management. My life is not a
simple one.It can be challenging at
times keeping up with schedules, appointments, club nights, friends, family—the
list is endless, but then again life is for the living.

CH: Where are you from? Your Model Mayhem profile
says you are from Latin America, with parents
of Mexican and German descent, respectively. How old were you when you
moved to Britain?

Gocast: That is one tricky
question. I am actually British, although I was born in Mexico. I have
lived in London
since a very young age. However, my mother language is Spanish, therefore (unfortunately)
I do not have the honor of speaking with an English accent. My “genetic”
background has indeed German from my dad’s side and Mexican from my mother’s. I
hope this all makes sense.

CH: You have such a
distinct look, one that I would describe as exotic and androgynous. Not
what most people might think of as a typical male model. How would you describe
your style image? And how did you discover and develop that image? (Did you get started in the new New Romantic club scene in London, or was it some
other inspiration?)

Gocast: My image definitely
started in the London
club scene. I used to go out to “normal” clubs and bars, but always feeling
that I was not quite suitable for them, I started to look for a more arty
environment and played around with different looks, which I still do. Since I
have always had a thing for the New Romantic style, I decided to become “re-born”
into a new way, more in sync with my inner personality and my personal opinion
in life, which is a very simple one: be who you are.

CH: What musicians and bands
are atop your current playlist? What musicians and bands are lifelong
favorites?

Gocast: I have a wide range of
taste when it comes down to music, and also quite extreme. I go from hardcore
metal to Kate Bush. My personal music player is full of extremes. I do not
really focus my attention to one artist or band. Since you asked, a few on my
playlists at the moment are Garbage, JLo, Amanda Lear, Tribal House, Korn, Dead
or Alive, Donna Summer, Kate Bush, Siouxie and the Banshees… see what I mean?

CH: You've worked with
numerous artists and designers. Perhaps one of my favorite of your
collaborations has been with Marko
Mitanovski, a favorite designer of Lady Gaga. When I first viewed his
fashions, I was truly astonished - they are strange and intriguing and elegant. Anthropomorphic creatures in black and white. How did you come to
model for Mitanovski?

Gocast: I met Marko at one of
my clubs, “THE FACE.” He was a guest there, and the moment we met we knew we
would be working together. It was the right chemistry and we also get along
really well. It is indeed a pleasure to work with him. I can’t wait for his
next collection! I love his dramatic design style.

Gocast: I wear a lot of
pieces from various artists, and it is just a question of blending and matching
them to create my night-out style. I recently worked with Dane Goulding,
who designed for the Spice Girls. He has some truly amazing pieces.

CH: You've been in a few
fashion-art short films. I thought "The
Dionysian" released in 2011 was really beautiful, and you looked darkly
enchanting wearing lace and a high collar. And enormous spidery eyelashes. What
was that experience like? What sort of direction were you given in the film, in
terms of posing or projecting a certain image?

Gocast: This film was shot in London, in December. It
was a very cold night and the director knew exactly what he wanted. Since we
shared the same vision, I fit perfectly in the film. This film is going to an
exhibition in Paris
this year. I have worked behind and in front and the camera for a few years
now, and the experience is always the same for me, exciting and always looking
forward to seeing the final creation.

CH: You starred in another
fashion/art film called "Perform
Nijinsky," which was produced by the very talented cabaret performer Mr. Pustra. Clearly the film was something
of an homage to the early 20th-century Ballet Russes legend, Vaslav
Nijinsky. Can you tell DG more about that film project?

Gocast: Pustra is a good
friend and I am also an admirer of his work. Together with Dorota Mulczynska, the
vision of a morphed early 20th Century Ballet Russes was created into a
short film, celebrating and honoring Nijinsky.

CH: Do you often do your own
make up for photo shoots and club nights? Or do you more often work with a make
up artist?

Gocast: For photo shoots I do
work closely with Stephanie
Stokkvik, a Norwegian high fashion make up artist. I have learned so much
from her. If you have time, have a look for her on the net—she is amazing! When
I go out, I normally “paint my face” on my own.

CH: Who is your top style
icon?

Gocast: I am afraid I do not
have one.

CH: When you travel around on
everyday errands, to the grocery and laundromat and whatnot, how do you look
and dress?

Gocast: You would not
recognize me, that’s all I call say. I try to go under the radar when out and
about on my personal life in order to give some space to myself and my
close friends and family.

CH: When you aren't
working, what do you do for fun?

Gocast: I am a bit of a geek.
I own a PS3 and a whole bunch of games. I enjoy also watching horror movies
with friends.

CH: What is your dream
vacation destination?

Gocast: My other half loves
traveling, and I have been lucky to have been to and seen some amazing tropical
paradises. My favorite places.

CH: Do you have favorite
perfumes/colognes?

Gocast: Yes, I am currently
about to finish “Un Jardin Sur Le Nil” by Hermès, and my next fragrance will be from Diptyque Paris.

CH: What are your go-to make
up and skin care products?

Gocast: Any good moisturizer
does, really, not any favorites in particular.

CH: What professional goals do
you set for yourself? Are there particular photographers, artists, or
designers you long to work with? Or, do you have something else in mind
quite different from what you are doing now?

Gocast: I am shooting a few
more fashion films this upcoming year and planning on starting some sketches
for my own collection. However, I must keep this under wraps. I am pretty much
open to work with anyone - as long as the chemistry is there, anything is
possible.

CH: What are your New Years
Eve plans?

Gocast: I am spending New Years
Eve with a good friend of mine. She runs a club in Bricklane, from which I will
also be throwing another infamous club night soon. It is a very intimate
space with limited capacity, which is just what I like.

Glamorous
icon? London-based model, DJ, and scene-maker Alejandro Gocast is making an
impressive go at that status. I first stumbled across Gocast on Facebook, as
part of the revived New Romantic club scene in London that I’ve long admired and written
about here on Deepglamour. Arising in the early 1980s, the New Romantics represented
a creative, well-dressed, well-coiffed music and style movement, post-punk, post-disco.
Now, some 30 years later, Gocast is one of a new generation of New Romantic
club kids. And he’s spectacular image in photos. I interviewed him exclusively
for Deepglamour.

CH: How do you describe what
you do? I think of you as a model, a glamorous nightclub personality, and a DJ.
But give DG a fuller picture of what you do?

Gocast: I would describe my
career as an eclectic one. As well as being known for what you have mentioned
in the London
scene, I also have a career in luxury events management. My life is not a
simple one.It can be challenging at
times keeping up with schedules, appointments, club nights, friends, family - the
list is endless, but then again life is for the living.

CH: Where are you from?
Your Model Mayhem profile
says you are from Latin America, with parents
of Mexican and German descent, respectively. How old were you when you
moved to Britain?

Gocast: That is one tricky
question. I am actually British, although I was born in Mexico. I have
lived in London
since a very young age. However, my mother language is Spanish, therefore (unfortunately)
I do not have the honor of speaking with an English accent. My “genetic”
background has indeed German from my dad’s side and Mexican from my mother’s. I
hope this all makes sense.

CH: You have such a
distinct look, one that I would describe as exotic and androgynous. Not
what most people might think of as a typical male model. How would you describe
your style image? And how did you discover and develop that image?
(Did you get started in the new New Romantic club scene in London, or was it some
other inspiration?)

Gocast: My image definitely
started in the London
club scene. I used to go out to “normal” clubs and bars, but always feeling
that I was not quite suitable for them, I started to look for a more arty
environment and played around with different looks, which I still do. Since I
have always had a thing for the New Romantic style, I decided to become “re-born”
into a new way, more in sync with my inner personality and my personal opinion
in life, which is a very simple one: be who you are.

CH: What musicians and bands
are atop your current playlist? What musicians and bands are lifelong
favorites?

Gocast: I have a wide range of
taste when it comes down to music, and also quite extreme. I go from hardcore
metal to Kate Bush. My personal music player is full of extremes. I do not
really focus my attention to one artist or band. Since you asked, I a few of my
playlists at the moment are Gargabe, JLo, Amanda Lear, Tribal House, Korn, Dead
or Alive, Donna Summer, Kate Bush, Siouxie and the Banshees… see what I mean?

CH: You've worked with
numerous artists and designers. Perhaps one of my favorite of your
collaborations has been with Marko
Mitanovski, a favorite designer of Lady Gaga. When I first viewed his
fashions, I was truly astonished - they are strange and intriguing and elegant.
Anthropomorphic creatures in black and white. How did you come to
model for Mitanovski?

Gocast: I met Marko at one of
my clubs, “THE FACE.” He was a guest there, and the moment we met we knew we
would be working together. It was the right chemistry and we also get along
really well. It is indeed a pleasure to work with him. I can’t wait for his
next collection! I love his dramatic design style.

CH: Is there a designer
you wear most often right now?

Gocast: I wear a lot of
pieces from various artists, and it is just a question of blending and matching
them to create my night-out style. I recently worked with Dane Goulding,
who designed for the Spice Girls. He has some truly amazing pieces.

CH: You've been in a few
fashion-art short films. I thought "The
Dionysian" released in 2011 was really beautiful and you looked darkly
enchanting wearing lace and a high collar. And enormous spidery eyelashes. What
was that experience like? What sort of direction were you given in the film, in
terms of posing or projecting a certain image?

Gocast: This film was shot in London, in December. It
was a very cold night and the director knew exactly what he wanted. Since we
shared the same vision, I fit perfectly in the film. This film is going to an
exhibition in Paris
this year. I have worked behind and in front and the camera for a few years
now, and the experience is always the same for me, exciting and always looking
forward to seeing the final creation.

CH: You starred in another
fashion/art film called "Perform
Nijinsky," which was produced by the very talented cabaret performer Mr. Pustra. Clearly the film was something
of an homage to the early 20th Century Ballet Russes legend, Vaslav
Nijinsky. Can you tell DG more about that film project?

Gocast: Pustra is a good
friend and I am also an admirer of his work. Together with Dorota Mulczynska, the
vision of a morphed early 20th Century Ballet Russes was created into a
short film, celebrating and honoring Nijinsky.

Glamorous
icon? London-based model, DJ, and scene-maker Alejandro Gocast is making an
impressive go at that status. I first stumbled across Gocast on Facebook, as
part of the revived New Romantic club scene in London that I’ve long admired and written
about here on Deepglamour. Arising in the early 1980s, the New Romantics represented
a creative, well-dressed, well-coiffed music and style movement, post-punk, post-disco.
Now, some 30 years later, Gocast is one of a new generation of New Romantic
club kids. And he’s spectacular image in photos. I interviewed him exclusively
for Deepglamour.

CH: How do you describe what
you do? I think of you as a model, a glamorous nightclub personality, and a DJ.
But give DG a fuller picture of what you do?

Gocast: I would describe my
career as an eclectic one. As well as being known for what you have mentioned
in the London
scene, I also have a career in luxury events management. My life is not a
simple one.It can be challenging at
times keeping up with schedules, appointments, club nights, friends, family - the
list is endless, but then again life is for the living.

CH: Where are you from?
Your Model Mayhem profile
says you are from Latin America, with parents
of Mexican and German descent, respectively. How old were you when you
moved to Britain?

Gocast: That is one tricky
question. I am actually British, although I was born in Mexico. I have
lived in London
since a very young age. However, my mother language is Spanish, therefore (unfortunately)
I do not have the honor of speaking with an English accent. My “genetic”
background has indeed German from my dad’s side and Mexican from my mother’s. I
hope this all makes sense.

CH: You have such a
distinct look, one that I would describe as exotic and androgynous. Not
what most people might think of as a typical male model. How would you describe
your style image? And how did you discover and develop that image?
(Did you get started in the new New Romantic club scene in London, or was it some
other inspiration?)

Gocast: My image definitely
started in the London
club scene. I used to go out to “normal” clubs and bars, but always feeling
that I was not quite suitable for them, I started to look for a more arty
environment and played around with different looks, which I still do. Since I
have always had a thing for the New Romantic style, I decided to become “re-born”
into a new way, more in sync with my inner personality and my personal opinion
in life, which is a very simple one: be who you are.

CH: What musicians and bands
are atop your current playlist? What musicians and bands are lifelong
favorites?

Gocast: I have a wide range of
taste when it comes down to music, and also quite extreme. I go from hardcore
metal to Kate Bush. My personal music player is full of extremes. I do not
really focus my attention to one artist or band. Since you asked, I a few of my
playlists at the moment are Gargabe, JLo, Amanda Lear, Tribal House, Korn, Dead
or Alive, Donna Summer, Kate Bush, Siouxie and the Banshees… see what I mean?

CH: You've worked with
numerous artists and designers. Perhaps one of my favorite of your
collaborations has been with Marko
Mitanovski, a favorite designer of Lady Gaga. When I first viewed his
fashions, I was truly astonished - they are strange and intriguing and elegant.
Anthropomorphic creatures in black and white. How did you come to
model for Mitanovski?

Gocast: I met Marko at one of
my clubs, “THE FACE.” He was a guest there, and the moment we met we knew we
would be working together. It was the right chemistry and we also get along
really well. It is indeed a pleasure to work with him. I can’t wait for his
next collection! I love his dramatic design style.

CH: Is there a designer
you wear most often right now?

Gocast: I wear a lot of
pieces from various artists, and it is just a question of blending and matching
them to create my night-out style. I recently worked with Dane Goulding,
who designed for the Spice Girls. He has some truly amazing pieces.

CH: You've been in a few
fashion-art short films. I thought "The
Dionysian" released in 2011 was really beautiful and you looked darkly
enchanting wearing lace and a high collar. And enormous spidery eyelashes. What
was that experience like? What sort of direction were you given in the film, in
terms of posing or projecting a certain image?

Gocast: This film was shot in London, in December. It
was a very cold night and the director knew exactly what he wanted. Since we
shared the same vision, I fit perfectly in the film. This film is going to an
exhibition in Paris
this year. I have worked behind and in front and the camera for a few years
now, and the experience is always the same for me, exciting and always looking
forward to seeing the final creation.

CH: You starred in another
fashion/art film called "Perform
Nijinsky," which was produced by the very talented cabaret performer Mr. Pustra. Clearly the film was something
of an homage to the early 20th Century Ballet Russes legend, Vaslav
Nijinsky. Can you tell DG more about that film project?

Gocast: Pustra is a good
friend and I am also an admirer of his work. Together with Dorota Mulczynska, the
vision of a morphed early 20th Century Ballet Russes was created into a
short film, celebrating and honoring Nijinsky.

CH: Do you often do your own
make up for photo shoots and club nights? Or do you more often work with a make
up artist?

Gocast: For photo shoots I do
work closely with Stephanie
Stokkvik, a Norwegian high fashion make up artist. I have learned so much
from her. If you have time, have a look for her on the net - she is amazing! When
I go out, I normally “paint my face” on my own.

CH: Who is your top style
icon?

Gocast: I am afraid I do not
have one.

CH: When you travel around on
everyday errands, to the grocery and laundromat and whatnot, how do you look
and dress?

Gocast: You would not
recognize me, that’s all I call say. I try to go under the radar when out and
about on my personal life in order to give some space to myself and my
close friends and family.

CH: When you aren't
working, what do you do for fun?

Gocast: I am a bit of a geek.
I own a PS3 and a whole bunch of games. I enjoy also watching horror movies
with friends.

CH: What is your dream
vacation destination?

Gocast: My other half loves
traveling, and I have been lucky to have been to and seen some amazing tropical
paradises. My favorite places.

CH: Do you have favorite
perfumes/colognes?

Gocast: Yes, I am currently
about to finish “Un Jardin Sur Le Nil” by Hermes, and my next fragrance will be from Diptyque Paris.

CH: What are your go-to make
up and skin care products?

Gocast: Any good moisturizer
does, really, not any favorites in particular.

CH: What professional goals do
you set for yourself? Are there particular photographers, artists, or
designers you long to work with? Or, do you have something else in mind
quite different from what you are doing now?

Gocast: I am shooting a few
more fashion films this upcoming year and planning on starting some sketches
for my own collection. However, I must keep this under wraps. I am pretty much
open to work with anyone - as long as the chemistry is there, anything is
possible.

CH: What are your New Years
Eve plans?

Gocast: I am spending New Years
Eve with a good friend of mine. She runs a club in Bricklane, from which I will
also be throwing another infamous club night soon. It is a very intimate
space with limited capacity, which is just what I like.

CH: Do you often do your own
make up for photo shoots and club nights? Or do you more often work with a make
up artist?

Gocast: For photo shoots I do
work closely with Stephanie
Stokkvik, a Norwegian high fashion make up artist. I have learned so much
from her. If you have time, have a look for her on the net - she is amazing! When
I go out, I normally “paint my face” on my own.

CH: Who is your top style
icon?

Gocast: I am afraid I do not
have one.

CH: When you travel around on
everyday errands, to the grocery and laundromat and whatnot, how do you look
and dress?

Gocast: You would not
recognize me, that’s all I call say. I try to go under the radar when out and
about on my personal life in order to give some space to myself and my
close friends and family.

CH: When you aren't
working, what do you do for fun?

Gocast: I am a bit of a geek.
I own a PS3 and a whole bunch of games. I enjoy also watching horror movies
with friends.

CH: What is your dream
vacation destination?

Gocast: My other half loves
traveling, and I have been lucky to have been to and seen some amazing tropical
paradises. My favorite places.

CH: Do you have favorite
perfumes/colognes?

Gocast: Yes, I am currently
about to finish “Un Jardin Sur Le Nil” by Hermes, and my next fragrance will be from Diptyque Paris.

CH: What are your go-to make
up and skin care products?

Gocast: Any good moisturizer
does, really, not any favorites in particular.

CH: What professional goals do
you set for yourself? Are there particular photographers, artists, or
designers you long to work with? Or, do you have something else in mind
quite different from what you are doing now?

Gocast: I am shooting a few
more fashion films this upcoming year and planning on starting some sketches
for my own collection. However, I must keep this under wraps. I am pretty much
open to work with anyone - as long as the chemistry is there, anything is
possible.

CH: What are your New Years
Eve plans?

Gocast: I am spending New Years
Eve with a good friend of mine. She runs a club in Bricklane, from which I will
also be throwing another infamous club night soon. It is a very intimate
space with limited capacity, which is just what I like.

December 27, 2012

New York Times style writer Christine Haughney profiles my friend Joan Kron, who covers plastic surgery for Allure, in this feature and interviews her in the first segment of the video above. (See Joan's DG Q&A here.) "Plastic surgery," says Joan in the video, "is the last subject in style that hasn't really gotten new journalism."

"This is something that women don't share. So very early on I decided I would tell the truth. I would tell the truth about my age. I would tell the truth about surgery—that I had it. And people are so shocked. Then it made me very popular. I can be sitting there quietly at a dinner party and somebody says, 'Joan covers plastic surgery.' And then--bam!—I'm surrounded."

An excerpt from the profile:

“I never lie about my age. I tell everybody about my age because I don’t think women have enough role models,” Ms. Kron said as she leaned back into her living room couch. “Maybe, because I’m getting like these old ladies who just don’t care and tell the truth.”

It’s not just Ms. Kron’s age that makes her stand out along the supple-skinned halls of Condé Nast, where few reporters, editors or executives — except perhaps for 85-year-old Si Newhouse and the 92-year-old New Yorker contributor Roger Angell — appear to have passed the threshold of midlife. Ms. Kron has chronicled how the plastic surgery industry has grown up over the last two decades from a cottage industry to a $10 billion one last year. “The field has exploded,” said Linda Wells, Allure’s editor in chief. “It’s an area that both fascinates and confuses readers.”

December 25, 2012

While doing research in back issues of Vogue, I found this familiar-looking ad from 1974, three years before the debut of Star Wars. Of course, unlike Star Wars, which supposedly took place "long, long ago," Quathra is "a luxury fabric from the [oh so glamorous] 21st century." In the actual 21st century, Qathra (no u) is a coffee house in Brooklyn--an institution, not to mention a locale, not envisioned by 20th-century futurists. (The textile company appears to have canceled its trademark in 1982.)

December 22, 2012

Burlesque star Dita von Teese (née Heather Sweet) has
said that she didn’t wait around to become beautiful – she remade herself to
become beautiful. She transforms her
facial features with pale foundation that covers never-to-be-seen freckles, red lipstick, winged eyeliner, and a
tattooed beauty mark. She wears corsets
that artificially constrict her waist. And, as a natural blonde, she dyes her hair an inky black and sculpts it to Veronica Lake perfection. She explicitly embraces artifice, which I
deem a welcome alternative to the prevailing notion of natural-as-beautiful. As we discuss makeovers here on
Deepglamour.net, I think one type of makeover deserving of attention is temporary, extreme
transformation. Often the goal of a
makeover is to become a prettier version of oneself, but sometimes the goal is
akin to achieving an altogether different persona.

For performers like Dita, the transformation is clearly for professional
reasons as much as personal. Lady Gaga,
David Bowie, Boy George, Prince Poppycock, and many other celebrities established a
distinct public persona through exotic makeup, wigs, hats, and clothing. But extreme makeovers aren’t just for professional
performers. In fact, anyone can achieve
a dramatic transformation for the sheer enjoyment of it. And there are many subcultures and hobby
interests that embrace costuming for special events. Less often, people choose an exotic look for
everyday wear.

Consider Aimee Elizabeth, a young lady from the Washington, D.C.
area. Currently, Aimee sells cosmetics
for a living. But on her own time, she
designs and sews elaborate costumes for costume play, or “cosplay,” events. Themes and inspirations include: Gothic
Lolita, Disney, cyber and “perky Goth,” FX make-up, Japanese and ancient
Egyptian culture, mythology, urban legends, and horror films. (For more on cosplay, see this DG Q&A with photographer Ejen Chuang about his book Cosplay in America.) Naturally a green-eyed, fair-skinned brunette,
Aimee Elizabeth created a colorful cosplay persona she calls “Laydee NekoAmi
Chan.” She has executed dozens of
costume looks that include theatrical makeup effects,
colorful horns and grand hair ornaments, doll-like Asian-inspired dresses and
petticoats, and enormous platform boots.

In far-away Sweden,
another creative lady, a wife and mother, has become something of a Facebook
and YouTube sensation. Whatever “Adora
Batbrat” might look like sans make
up, one can only guess. But the
self-described “Martha Stewart of Goth” regularly posts public images of her “make up of
the day,” which involves sharply stenciled brows, elaborately swirled and
dotted eye make up, false eyelashes, face jewels, and freaky contact
lenses. Her light color hair is tinged
in colors that vary from cotton candy pink to lilac to light green, and usually
topped with a crown or headdress. She
also sports tattoos and permanent vampire-like fangs, conjured up by her
dentist.

Adora Batbrat seems to have simply decided to embrace an extreme makeover as a
matter of daily life rather than profession. “I never could
have figured out so many kind people wanted to be part of my life and let me
share theirs but I'm very happy about it, and you are all most welcome,” she tells her Facebook fans. “For those who just think I look cute and
know nothing about me, I'm a Swedish alternative model, a Goth make up guru at
YouTube, loves electro music. I'm a mother of 3 kids.” (She explains her makeover philosophy over on her blog.)

What I admire about people such as Dita von Teese, Aimee Elizabeth, and Adora
Batbrat is their glamorous vision for beauty and self-transformation and their will to achieve it. It’s not for everyone, nor even for most of
the people most of the time. Yet it’s inspiring
to see that anyone who desires to re-imagine themselves can create a delightful, fleeting
illusion.

December 21, 2012

When I turned in the manuscript of my book (now titled The Power of Glamour, with publication set for next November), I thought I’d get a makeover, for two reasons. The first was practical. I’d been on a sort of hair-dressing strike and hadn’t had a haircut in nine months or seen a colorist in nearly two years. The second was intellectual. The makeover is modern glamour—or glamorous modernity—distilled to its essence: transformation made possible by expertise.

Glamour isn’t a style. It’s something you feel. You’re flipping through a magazine and suddenly feel transported: that dress, that room, that vacation spot, those shoes—something speaks to you, pulls you into the scene, and makes you feel that if only you inhabited that alternative reality, life would be perfect. That’s glamour at work. It makes the ideal seem attainable.

To an audience gazing at before and after pictures or the “reveal” scene in a movie or reality show, the glamour of the makeover taps two longings: to be beautiful, certainly, but also to be truer to your inner ideal. The outward transformation signifies, and enables, movement toward a better life.

But what if you just want to look better? And what if the expert you trust with your public self makes you into someone you don't identify with? Movies and reality shows play that tension for drama and laughs. In the dramatic reveal in Miss Congeniality, the once-slovenly FBI agent Gracie Hart struts out of the aircraft hanger where she’s been worked on by a dozen pink-clad beauty experts. She swings her perfectly styled tresses and attracts admiring male stares with her short, skintight dress. But the new Gracie—who looks remarkably like Sandra Bullock—is as grouchy as she is beautiful. The makeover wasn’t her choice, and she hasn’t embraced her new persona. “I am in a dress,” she growls to her amazed partner. “I have gel in my hair, I haven’t slept all night, I am starved, and I’m armed. Don’t mess with me.”

Thinking about the possible results of a real-life makeover, I knew I wouldn’t wind up looking like a movie star or supermodel. But I worried that I might not look like myself. Makeovers and I didn’t have a happy history. The closest thing I’d come to “before and after” were the beauty treatments I got in the run-up to my 1986 wedding. When my mother treated me to a makeup lesson at a modeling school in my South Carolina hometown, I repaid her generosity by freaking out at the heavy-handed results. The new look seemed to represent everything I wanted to escape by hightailing it out of the South. And when I had my hair styled for my bridal photos, I spent the ride from the hairdresser to the photographer combing out my hair and complaining, “I look like a country music singer!”

This time, I chickened out. I got a basic trim, went back to my old colorist, and waited for my editor’s comments—which, quite unintentionally, reopened the subject. As I revised the manuscript, I decided it needed a short sidebar on “The Makeover.” Along with research that included movies, books, and reality shows, I wanted to interview someone who did them.

Fortunately, Diane is not from the Eddie Senz school of bossy makeovers. After talking with me a little about what I wanted in my hair—longish and blonde with a white streak, but not one quite as large as nature supplies—she proposed putting a bit more color next to my face and blending a highlight and lowlight with the white. Cutting the length so that it hit my shoulder blade would give the hair movement—a clever idea if you don't want to go above the shoulders.

December 18, 2012

These days, hairdressers tend to concentrate either on cutting and styling or on color--and they certainly don't do makeup. But Diane Gardner knew at an early age that she wanted to do it all. "I thought that in order to transform someone you had to do all three services," she says. "Because you have a vision, and then someone else takes it away from you when they do one of the other services."

At 19, she moved from New Jersey to Manhattan to hone her skills. She started with color, training at Louis Licari's La Coupe salon on Madison Avenue. With Licari's grudging permission, she then "moved downstairs" to apprentice with Antonio da Costa Rocha, who, she says, not only taught her how to cut but "how to style in a very glamorous way."

The trick, then, was to learn makeup. Fortunately, Trish McEvoy, then an aesthetician, was a La Coupe client. She offered to teach Diane makeup in exchange for doing her staff's hair. After that beginning, Diane apprenticed with makeup artist Sandra Bocas (now also a fine artist). "Sandra took me into a lot of places I never could have gotten into," she says. "I started doing TV commercials and runway makeup with her, and I loved it."

But, she recalls, "now that I had all three [skills] nobody would hire me, because I wanted to do all three." She started her own salon in New Jersey and later, at the urging of clients who were socialites from La Jolla, moved there, eventually migrating north to Los Angeles. In 2002, she set up her website at MakeoverSpecialist.com--just in time to catch the makeover-TV show craze. She did some work for shows like Movie and a Makeover and Fashion Emergency, but mostly she pulled in new clients who'd Googled "makeover" after watching their favorite shows. At the peak of the craze, she might do 42 makeovers a week.

Nowadays, most of her clients are regulars, but she still gets one or two makeover Googlers a week. During a break in my own makeover (which you can read about later in the week), I interviewed Diane about her experiences.

Virginia Postrel: Where do your makeover customers come from? Are they brides?

Diane Gardner: Weddings are a big part, but not the majority. The majority come from the Internet. I put my website up in 2002, and that was the peak of the makeover TV shows, so everybody started Googling “makeover,” and that’s how people have found me.

VP: So when people come to you for makeovers, what are they picturing?

Diane Gardner: Usually they don’t have a vision in their mind. They don’t know how they could look their best, but they want to trust me to give them what looks best. The number one request is to look natural. Everybody wants to look natural. And youthful.

VP: So why would they come to you for a makeover as opposed to say going to their usual hair stylist, or going to the MAC counter at Bloomingdale’s?

Diane Gardner: They usually come because they want to treat themselves. Sometimes a life-changing event has occurred. Sometimes it’s just that the kids have gone off to college and now it’s time for them, the women. Or it could be a young girl that’s coming out of college and now she wants to look like a young professional. Sometimes men will come for a makeover because they want to meet girls and want to look their best.

VP: How is the sort of makeover you do in real life different from a movie makeover or a reality show makeover?

Diane Gardner: I teach people to sustain the new look that I’ve given them. It could be in the form of regular color services. The makeup regimen is something that they can repeat over and over again and know that it’s going to look the same every time they do it themselves. And they can come back to me for regular haircuts.

VP: In real life, do people usually keep the look?

Diane Gardner: They usually keep it. A lot of times they’ll come back to me and say, “How does my makeup look? Am I doing the right thing? Does my skin look as good as it could? What do you recommend?” Or sometimes they’ll come back and say, “I love what you did. Let’s try something a little different,” usually in the form of a haircut.

VP: How often do you do makeovers?

Diane Gardner: A new client will come to me for a first-time makeover a minimum of once a week, and that’s someone that will find me on the Internet, on Yelp. There was a time when I was in Beverly Hills and the makeover shows were running where I would book 42 makeovers in a week.

VP: What spurred that interest? What were they looking for?

Diane Gardner: I think it’s the glamour. I really do. Because when you were watching those shows—and there are still some of them on television—they go from Plain Jane—of course they start with no hair, no makeup, no hair color—to looking absolutely glamorous.

VP: Right. And they think, “That could be me.” So having this expert treatment is part of the glamour of it.

Diane Gardner: And the enjoyment. I think it’s an indulgence, because a lot of women really don’t take care of themselves, they take care of other people first.

VP: Are there any particularly memorable makeovers that you’ve done that you can talk about?

Diane Gardner: When I moved to L.A. in 2000, I sought out a wedding coordinator I found in the Yellow Pages. She said to me, “I don’t hire new people. You’re from out of town. I don’t know your talent.” And I said, “But you have to give me a shot, you have to give me a chance. I know what I’m doing.” Finally she booked me a bride. She sent me up to Malibu, and she never told me that the bride had had her face burned and had missing eyelashes and part of a missing eyebrow with the burn scar. I walked in the door, and I thought, “Oh, I know what she’s doing.” [laughs] So I did this girl’s hair and makeup, and put on eyelashes and painted in some brows, and did her hair and made her feel absolutely stunning and gorgeous and beautiful, and she was so happy.

VP: So you passed the test.

Diane Gardner: Another of my most memorable moments was in March 2006. I got a call from that same wedding coordinator, and she said, “You have to come to this home in Beverly Hills. Drop what you’re doing, drop your client, you have to come here now. Her Majesty Queen Noor is here for a fundraiser. She’s coming from Larry King’s studio, and I know that you know the difference between television makeup. And she’s greeting 200 guests tonight.” And she goes, “But I don’t know how to tell her that.” So I told my client, “Listen, do you mind if I run?” And my client understood.

I get to this particular residence and I’m briefed by awoman who tells me what the protocol is. She introduces me to the queen, tells me I have to refer to her as “Your Majesty,” and of course you don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. Well, I took one look at her and she had pancake makeup on. And she’s one of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen. But her hair was heavily sprayed, and her makeup was way too heavy to be greeting guests in person. So it was difficult for me to say, but I did it anyway. She came in and she said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I know they hired you, but my hair and makeup is done.” And I said, “Your Majesty, I see that, but it’s television hair and makeup, and so I’d like to—” And she looked at me and at first she was taken back by that. And I said, “It’s just that you’re presenting yourself to the public face-to-face, and television makeup’s completely different.” And then she just turned around and said, “OK, do what you want.” But then she questioned me about every little thing I was doing. As a queen would. So this is my most memorable makeover, because it was done within a one-hour period of time. She looked absolutely stunning afterwards. And when she looked in the mirror she understood.

December 17, 2012

When Mademoiselle ran the first before-and-after beauty feature in 1936, the magazine enlisted Paramount Studios makeup artist Eddie Senz to transform Barbara Phillips, a nurse who described herself as “homely as a hedgehog,” into something resembling a Hollywood star. He was not tactful. “Your face is too narrow and—er—well your neck’s too long,” he told Phillips. He was even blunter with the anonymous subjects he transformed for the regular column Mademoiselle started after the makeover was a huge hit. “Once a young woman built on these lines would have been described as pleasingly plump,” he wrote in one column. “But let’s be realistic and point out that she’s short, fat, stocky, and missing in attractive feminine curves.”

For all his lack of tact, Senz did know how to change people’s looks. While at Paramount, he so dramatically transformed Frances Farmer that, her biographer Peter Shelley writes, “she did not recognize the person who looked back at her from the mirror.”

Toward the end of World War II, the Office of Strategic Services (the predecessor to the CIA) enlisted Senz to suggest how Hitler might disguise himself, by changing or shaving his hair (and mustache, of course), growing a beard, or wearing glasses. Although supposedly unknown until a Der Spiegel report in the 1990s, Senz’s work was actually reported, with concept photos, by The New York Times in October 1944. Senz told Victor Schiff, who wrote the story, that the hardest challenge would be to hide Hitler’s piercing eyes, “the most remarkable I have ever seen.”

Senz’s sense of patriotic duty extended to nearly pro bono hair styling in the 1960s. When LBJ became president, biographerRandall B. Woodswrites, Johnson told a “dumbfounded” Senz, “I’m a poor man and I don’t make much money, but I've got a wife and a couple of daughters, and four or five people that run around with me, and I like the way you make the look....This is your country and I want to see what you want to do about it.” A compliant Senz accepted transportation costs and a $100 bill to style the hair of the three Johnson women and a bunch of secretaries.

Although billed as a Hollywood makeup artist, for most of his career Senz made his living through savvy publicity that drew clients to his New York salon. (Here are his 1940 “beauty tips for office girls.”) He took a simultaneously bossy and skeptical approach to beauty standards.

“Beauty is all a matter of concept,” he toldNew York Times reporter Joan Cook in 1961. “In this country, beauty generally means an oval, Nordic sort of face. We’ve been brainwashed to think our standards are the only standards. Who are we to think we have a priority on beauty knowledge?”

Confronted with a client, however, that relativism disappeared, often along with the client’s eyebrows.“For many of my customers,” he told Cook, “my work consists of mentally superimposing the ideal face on top of theirs and then adding or taking away until the illusion of similarity has been achieved.”

December 16, 2012

In my new Bloomberg View column, I criticize the trendy denigration of technological progress that doesn't solve "big problems" like going to Mars. Here's an excerpt:

In speeches, interviews and articles, [Peter] Thiel decries what he sees as the country's lack of significant innovations. "When tracked against the admittedly lofty hopes of the 1950s and 1960s, technological progress has fallen short in many domains," he wrote last year in National Review. "Consider the most literal instance of non­acceleration: We are no longer moving faster."

Such warnings serve a useful purpose. Political barriers have in fact made it harder to innovate with atoms than with bits. New technologies as diverse as hydraulic fracturing and direct-to-consumer genetic testing (neither mentioned by Thiel) attract instant and predictable opposition. As Thiel writes, "Progress is neither automatic nor mechanistic; it is rare."

But the current funk says less about economic or technological reality than it does about the power of a certain 20th-century technological glamour: all those images of space flight, elevated highways and flying cars, with their promise of escape from mundane existence into a better, more exciting place called The Future. These visions imprinted themselves so vividly on the public's consciousness that they left some of the smartest, most technologically savvy denizens of the 21st century blind to much of the progress we actually enjoy.

The column draws directly on ideas I developed in The Future and Its Enemies. But, as I was writing it, I also thought about what my forthcoming book The Power of Glamour might suggest about why some old visions of the future are more compelling than others: Why do we miss space travel and flying cars but not robot maids (or robot dogs), "telesense," meals-in-a-pill, or all those jumpsuits? Why don't we appreciate the microwave ovens, synthetic fibers, or artificial hips?

I think it has to do with the promise of escape and transformation, which is essential to all forms of glamour. Glamour always allows the audience to imagine a different, better self in different, better circumstances.

A robot maid might improve your life but it wouldn't fundamentally change it. You'd still be yourself and the world around you would seem more-or-less the same. Except in a harried housewife, the idea of a robot maid does not excite longing. Transportation, by contrast, always implies movement and transcendence, all the more when it's fast and high. That's why space travel—like cars and trains and planes and ships and horses before it—has such potential for glamour.

I've always been fascinated by the images NASA and others used to sell the idea of space colonies in the 1970s. They always remind me of the San Fernando Valley as you come over the Sepulveda Pass from West L.A. (or, to be more accurate, the first time I saw that view it reminded me of the space colony pictures). They're selling real estate, with the same promise that every house stager uses: This could be your new, better life. ("I could be happy here.") All you have to do is move...in this case, to outer space.

Estimated at $800-1,00, Greta Garbo's silver cocktail set sold for more than $34,000.

One of the most strikingly strange items in the collection was a pink clown hat, which the auction house said was, "Known by the family to have been made by Valentina for a privately staged production in which Garbo played a clown with friends in the 1950s." Estimated at $150 to $300, it sold for $8,125.

Greta Garbo's pink clown hat, estimated at $150-300, sold for more than $8,000.

For full auction estimates and results, go here. A short article on the auction results is here.

December 14, 2012

As part of my book research, I've been going through every issue of Vogue and Harper's Bazaar from selected years between 1929 and 1974. Although I'm looking for specific imagery, I've found a lot of interesting other items in the process, including this 1939 Vogue photo of Evalyn Walsh McLean packing kits to send French soldiers. ("Each kit is packed with comforts: sweater, shirt, gloves, handkerchief, socks, pipe, tobacco, cigarettes, soap, towel, and chocolates.") To see a larger version, click on the photo.

To get you in the mood for Makeover Week, beginning Monday, we're happy to offer a giveaway from Global Beauty Care. The winner will receive a gift pack of all three versions of their IntésivEye eye-makeup remover pads: Cucumber Soothing, Oil-Free, and Anti-Wrinkle versions. Each pack includes 30 pads.

Infused with extracts and oils, these thick pads gently remove stubborn eye make-up, eye-liner, eye-shadow and waterproof mascara. They moisturize the skin as they clean and are hypoallergenic and PH-balanced.

Begin the new year with a clean new face. To enter, leave a comment below before midnight Pacific Time on December 31, 2012. The winner will be chosen using Random.org, and the prize will be mailed directly from Lane Communications. Open to U.S. residents only. We reserve the right to delete comments deemed to be spam.

December 10, 2012

Some 30 years ago, the New Romantic music movement reignited a return to sophisticated glamour and elegance in pop music sound and style. Next Tuesday, December 18, one of the quintessential New Romantic bands, ABC, will celebrate that moment in time with a special performance at London's Theatre Royal Drury Lane. Fronted by the blonde, statuesque singer Martin Fry, the band will perform its 1982 debut album, The Lexicon Of Love, backed by a full symphony orchestra.

“Thirty years is insane but the album still purrs along like a Bentley,” Fry recently told the Daily Star, drawing a comparison to another sort of glamour icon.

The album is lush and romantic, even without an orchestra. Readers might recall hits off the Trevor Horn-produced album, such as "Look of Love" and "Poison Arrow." But one need not even care for the music to appreciate the grand vision put forward by the artists and, indeed, the genre—both then and now.

At the height of disco, punk, and guitar-rock dominance in 1978, the band started out in Sheffield, England as an unremarkable-looking experimental electronica band called Vise Versa. But, as lore would have it, Fry's band mates suddenly discovered he could sing, and the band completely remade its sound and image, replete with skinny, matching 1960s-style suits and perfectly coiffed waved back hair. As the frontman, Fry pushed the style statement further by dazzling audiences in a now-iconic gold lamé suit.

It's interesting that so many years later, Fry's music aesthetic may have evolved beyond the New Romantic Lexicon sound, but his on-stage fashion presentation remains one of thoughtful elegance: expertly tailored suits made on Savile Row. Some are made of brightly colored dupioni silks in blues, purples, and oranges. As often, they are more subdued charcoals and periwinkle-grays. All are usually paired with simple ties and an ornate, statement belt buckle. The overall effect is that someone has made a very deliberate and respectful effort to dress for a specific special occasion—an audience, a show.

Long ago, a friend told me that he once imagined himself as Martin Fry, an elegant, mysterious man off on any manner of James Bond-style international intrigues and adventures. Perhaps that image also sprang from an oddly-conceived spy-thriller short film called Maptrap intended to promote Lexicon. Directed by Julien Temple, the film featured the band traveling in danger and intrigue behind the Iron Curtain. I think that captures as well as anything the vision Martin Fry and ABC intended to inspire—the illusion of a beautiful, glamorous life.

December 06, 2012

Michelle Breskin (left) and Karol Markowicz are unlikely beauty entrepreneurs. Karol is a writer and former public relations consultant, while Michelle is a real-estate agent with a background in finance. But sometimes consumers know more about what's needed in a market than insiders. (If you want to geek out on that topic, check out my old NYT column on "user innovation.") As busy businesswomen and mothers of young children, the two wanted a high-maintenance look at in low-maintenance time. They took the blowouts-only idea made famous by Drybar and combined it with nail services. At Fix Beauty Bar, which opened in September on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, you can get your hair blown out while you have a manicure, pedicure, or both. You're in and out in less than an hour.

When I had an October speaking engagement in New York, I got the works--blowout, pedicure, and a gel manicure--and saw why the place has been an instant hit with both customers and local media. Karol and Michelle now employ seven stylists and five nail technicians and are still growing and hiring. We asked them about what they've learned from their venture in providing everyday glamour.

DG: Neither of you has a background in the beauty industry. What inspired you to start Fix Beauty Bar?

A: We wanted a place where you could get your hair and nails done at the same time, have it be a nice experience and have the prices be reasonable. We waited for someone else to open that kind of place and when no one did we decided to go for it ourselves.

DG: What are the advantages to offering just styling and manicures/pedicures rather than a full range of hair and nail services?

A: We focus on two things and try to do them perfectly. With a full-range salon someone that is good at coloring might still have to cut hair, for example. Our stylists do a range of blowout styles and our nail technicians do manicures and pedicures. And that's it.

DG: What do you look for in an employee?

A: It's a combination of talent and personality. We've interviewed talented people we knew we couldn't work with--it has to be a combination since we'll be spending a lot of time with the person.

DG: Who's your customer?

A: They've run the gamut of NYC women. We have businesswomen on their lunch break, stay-at-home moms with their kids in tow, twenty-somethings heading out on a Friday night. No one has any time and everyone wants to feel good without it being too much of an expense-both monetarily and time-wise.

DG: How did you have to adapt the usual procedures and equipment for your services so that you could offer them simultaneously?

A: We designed the main square bar at Fix Beauty Bar to comfortably accommodate blowouts and nail services. We hated having our nails done and then moving to another seat to dry so we built-in the hand dryers. We do waterless pedicures (we wrap the feet in hot towels instead) because they're more hygienic and they fit better with our space.

DG: What were the challenges in designing the space?

A: Like everywhere else in NYC space is at a premium. We feel like we used every available square foot wisely with the design of our space.

DG: How did you decide on prices?

A: We wanted to make it moderate enough that people will make us part of their regular routine. We felt that $40 for a blowout, $15 for a manicure, and $35 for a pedicure was the right amount to bring people in for weekly or even twice-a-week appointments.

DG: What have been the biggest surprises?

A: This was the first brick-and-mortar business for both of us (we both have been self-employed in consultant roles before) so we learned a lot of things about having a physical business space. Who knew you have to pay for garbage pick-up!

DG: You've been open only about a few months and have gotten a tremendous amount of local publicity. What's your secret?

A: There's no real secret. We've reached out to a lot of press outlets and they've been responsive because they think we have an interesting idea. It's something women always subconsciously wanted and the light goes off when they hear about it. Of course blowouts and simultaneous manicures make so much sense!

DG: What makes someone or something glamorous?

A: Glamour is about putting yourself together. We all know the days we leave the house not feeling particularly glamorous. But a little lipstick, a nice manicure or a coordinated outfit is sometimes all it takes for everyday glamour.

DG: Who or what is your glamorous icon?

A: For Michelle it's Gwenyth Paltrow. For Karol it's the women she sees in the elevator wearing heels and lipstick at 7am. How do they do it?!

DG: Is glamour a luxury or a necessity?

A: Glamour is a necessity. It goes to the heart of making a woman feel beautiful. That's actually exactly what we were thinking when we started Fix Beauty Bar. Having your hair and nails done might not be the end-all-be-all of glamour but they go a long way to making a woman feel pretty and put together.

DG: Most glamorous place?

A: New York City.

DG: Can glamour survive?

A: Of course! Glamour always survives. No matter the time in human history women always want to be beautiful and glamorous.

DG: Is glamour something you're born with?

A: No, glamour is something you develop. Norma Jean wasn't born glamorous but Marilyn Monroe was the epitome of glamour anyway.

We answered the above questions together and agreed on almost everything. And yet when we did the either/or we had almost nothing in common.

December 05, 2012

People love them – and love to talk about them. In her book Charmed Bracelets, jewelry designer Tracey Zabar says that nearly every time she wears a charm bracelet (and that’s almost every day), women stop her on the street to ask about the jangly bracelet on her wrist.

They want to know the story of the charms and how the bracelet came to her. All jewelry – even costume stuff purchased at the mall – tells a story. Why it was purchased, who gave it to the person wearing it, how it makes her feel.

But with charm bracelets, the story is more overt. Charms are typically selected not just because they’re pretty, but for what they mean. They describe the bracelet’s creator.

My own charm bracelet, pictured on the left in its original box, was a gift from my grandmother. She compiled the charms while living in Europe during the 1950s. My grandfather was stationed in Germany - the bear and Brandenburg Gate represent my grandmother’s time in that country.

Other charms were souvenirs of trips – Rome, London, Paris, the Netherlands and Switzerland all have spots on the chain.

When I wear the bracelet – and I do, frequently – I have the same experience as Zabar. People, even those I don’t know, compliment the bracelet and ask questions about the charms. I get to tell them about my glamorous grandmother and her years in Europe, when she had two small children but still managed to travel and live in style.

Vintage charm bracelets are popular these days. Jewelry stores and sites like eBay and Etsy burst with them. The allure of the story-in-a-bracelet is so strong that for some, it doesn’t even matter if they don’t know who first created the bracelet, or why the charms were chosen.

Parks is best known for his socially conscious documentary photography—he was the first black photographer for Life magazine—and for the 1970s blaxpoitation film Shaft, which he directed (and which is quite stylish too). But Parks largely got his start in the glamour industry, shooting portraits of society women in Chicago before eventually landing at the ne plus ultra of fashion magazines, Vogue, where he freelanced from the mid-1940s to the '60s.

Parks produced some of the magazine's loveliest images: models draped in furs and waiting for a bus; a woman dashing across an office, her sorbet-colored gown trailing behind her; girls in pert hats jumping in and out of taxis, or deep in conversation at a Parisian cafe. Willis writes:

With a clear understanding about how to “look” on city streets, in cafes and society balls, Parks’s fashion photographs are about the experience of being dressed. He communicated beauty, vanity and pleasure in his photographs of fashionably dressed women. ...

But there's something else that makes Parks's images so arresting, and that made them so radical at the time, and it's that they are alive. At the time Parks was beginning his career at Vogue, most fashion photography was done in a studio, with models posing like mannequins in front of artificial-looking sets or painted backdrops. Parks—along with Martin Munkácsi at Harper's Bazaar and Richard Avedon—was among the first to bring the model onto the streets, showing her interacting with the city and its inhabitants. And it made fashion photography more glamorous, because it allowed women to get lost in the narrative of a photograph, and imagine a world in which waiting for a bus or going to work was filled with romance and excitement and dramatic possibility. Before, fashion photography was about clothes; Parks and his peers made it about the women and the lives they lead in those clothes.

James Bond is not a “realistic” character; real people occasionally smile. But he is a compelling and distinct one. With the right leading man, Bond is just human enough to be believable—and yet sufficiently aloof and suave to appear mostly untroubled by the world’s real worries. He thus provides just the right amount of escapism. The best fantasies are those that appear not entirely unattainable.

This observation offers an insight into why Bond used to be the quintessentially glamorous male figure. Glamour offers an emotionally specific version of escapism. It does not merely stir adrenaline or laughter. Rather, glamour provides a way to imaginatively transcend the constraints and burdens of everyday life. For a moment at least, it makes us feel that our greatest yearnings are achievable, that the impossible is possible, that we are not stuck with the life we have.

As Bond/Fleming sits in America and tucks into a mountain of crabs and melted butter, gorges on steak ‘so soft you can cut it with a fork’ and slurps another giant martini it becomes an almost pornographic contrast with the cable-knit sweaters and briarwood pipes, trad-jazz-revival and milk-bar world he had flown away from. As Felix Leiter in the book of Thunderball watches from a helicopter through his binoculars a naked girl sunbathing on a yacht and yells to Bond, ‘Natural blonde,’ Fleming’s original, chilblained, earnest British reader, with his uncontrollable flashbacks to the Burmese jungle and ill-informed keenness on Harald Macmillan, must have flung the novel across the room in despair.

Skyfall continues the Daniel Craig movies’ deglamorization of Bond. Here, he epitomizes not the old easy grace but, as M says in his premature obituary, “British perseverance.” The film is a celebration of the world the old Bond offered audiences escape from. This stoic, aging 007 belongs to the tough world of Tennyson, Churchill, and Margaret Thatcher, not the Jet Set. He struggles, suffers, and eventually wins out.

November 26, 2012

Described by The Independent as a "glamorous gold chameleon," British singer-songwriter Alison Goldfrapp projects strong, stylized imagery in all her performances, whether on screen or on stage.

I suspect she's just showing off here in demonstrating that with super-slick audio and visual production values—and the right pair of legs—glamour can even shine through gritty images of ashtrays, toilets, and garbage:

The retro Studio 54 stuff doesn't hurt either.

Whatever else she has going for her, she seems to have the glamorous art of being photographed with an indirect gaze and obscured eyes down to a science:

Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s personal qualities and story helped to invest the diverse relationship between Hollywood and the White House with a special resonance. This resonance in particular would enhance the figure of the president in certain cinematic terms—in other words, in terms that reflected the publicizing of heroic male figures in mass culture. As the theater provided Lincoln with emotional and philosophical guides to leadership, movies provided FDR with a mirror in which he could perceive and evaluate the deeper meanings of his life and his presidency. The fundamental reason for this deep bond lay in Roosevelt’s unprecedented employment of performance (as dramatic artists understood the word) in service to his presidency.

While Lincoln mined Shakespeare to enrich the music and the tragic weight of his prose and pondered melodramas (as well as Shakespearean tragedy) to elucidate his career-long fascination with tyranny and its consequences, Roosevelt, in keeping with his times, strove for a lighter touch. Through his effective use of radio in the Fireside Chats, he built on his cousin Theodore’s efforts to transform political speech from orotund Victorian practice to casual conversation suited to the age of mass media. He consciously confined the vocabulary of the Chats to about a thousand of the most common words, and always broadcast to a small group of guests in the Oval Office to create the feeling of an actual conversation.

To be sure, Roosevelt proved equally effective, especially during election campaigns, at booming and occasionally portentous oratory before huge crowds, but here too he showed his mastery of the microphone, adjusting his voice to the space and its echo and providing a novel new variety of temperaments, extending to effective uses of humor. Through his skilled introduction of light and humorous speaking qualities to presidential oratory, as well as the general buoyancy of many of his public appearances, Roosevelt conveyed his appreciation for comic acting and monology, in the style of Will Rogers and similar performers of the time.

The president’s most important performance by far was the deception with which he masked his physical disability. While every citizen knew about Roosevelt’s bout with polio, which afflicted him below the waist in 1921, almost none of them ever saw it literally paralyze him. In public the president walked, stood, smiled, and confidently led the nation. FDR was brazen enough in his first inaugural address to characterize fear as “nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror, which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance,” apparently unworried that his passing reference to paralysis might diminish his own image at the very moment he was attaining power.

From the time he contracted polio FDR spent virtually waking hour of his life battling the image of the invalid, first to restart and to advance his political career and then, as president, to project the traditional image of the national leader—a Washington, Jackson, Lincoln, or Theodore Roosevelt “running” for office and “marching” the people forward. In the age of movies, this expectation was heightened. As the art historian Sally Stein has observed, “today’s mass media intensifies the popular impulse to scrutinize the bodies of leaders and would-be leaders for signs of the[ir] abilities.” Even in the electronic age, while “absolute monarchs may sit . . . politicians dependent on popular mandate are expected to demonstrate quite literally their ‘good standing’ by rising to present themselves to their constituents.”

For Roosevelt, confronting such expectations was an unyielding physical and psychological challenge. His campaign led him to acquire a spa in Warm Springs, Georgia; experiment with quack medical remedies; devise steel leg braces and paint them black so that they would not be detected against his socks; and feign walking, falling forward while a strong man grasped his arm.

He even assumed the traditional leader’s pose by mounting a horse during his campaign in 1928 for the governorship of New York. Since his legs could not grip the horse’s flanks, this was a dangerous stunt; a slight movement by the animal likely would have thrown him to the ground. These efforts were only part of his ordeal, though. As one biographer, H. W. Brands, has put it, FDR

had determined, not long after contracting polio, that he would deny its effects on his life and dreams. The sheer physical effort of standing in his braces, of staggering forward, step by lurching step, of smiling through the sweat and the clenched hands gripping the lectern for dear life, would have exhausted anyone. But the emotional effort was at least as great. He couldn’t show his anger at his lost athleticism, his vanished virility, his physical dependence on others. He couldn’t be discouraged or despondent….The result of all this was that the actor never left the stage.

Even during times of relaxation such as his “children’s hours”—afternoon cocktails usually in the company of his adoring female secretaries and cousins —FDR projected an air of insouciance and buoyancy, mixing drinks while seated behind the liquor cart. In the dark first days of his administration, as the financial system hung in the balance, his adviser Raymond Moley found him to be almost unreal, “unmoved” by turmoil as if he “had no nerves at all.” Earlier, at the inaugural ceremony, the pioneering motion picture actress Lillian Gish—who was perhaps uniquely qualified to render evaluations of an individual’s “star quality”—marveled at Roosevelt, exclaiming that the new president seemed “to have been dipped in phosphorus.”

Coupled with this, as Brands perceptively notes, was the fact that Roosevelt was by nature a devious and misleading personality. “He had been emotionally isolated since boyhood. His close relationships had always been with persons not his equal. He had no close friends as a boy or young man, no one at Groton or Harvard in whom he genuinely confided.” Decades before he fell to polio, he enjoyed fooling people with verbal misdirection and his befogging brand of charm. Voters heard the young FDR boast about achievements that were entirely the work of others; election opponents, lulled into complacency by his genteel demeanor, learned only later of his ruthless campaign plotting and dealmaking; and he betrayed Eleanor by conducting an affair with Lucy Mercer, her own secretary. Eleanor’s uncle Theodore, as Booker T. Washington and many others noted, had seemed totally lacking in deviousness, possessing a “straightforward indiscretion, [a] frankness to the point of rudeness.” His cousin Franklin’s demeanor could not have been more different.

Part of the difference was due to changing times. In the decades after Theodore’s death, the advertising and public relations industries asserted that individuals (as well as corporations) must wear a carefully constructed public face in order to succeed, and the motivational speaker Dale Carnegie sold millions of books advising ambitious young men to mask their mundane, everyday selves in job interviews or in business transactions. In an era that celebrated public deception for the benefit of advancement, FDR was a truly representative man. His Herculean efforts to mask his paralysis and his despair made him a virtuoso of deceptive public performance.

As president, manipulating allies and foes alike, Roosevelt kept the goals of the New Deal multiple and often contradictory, so that he might preserve maximum political flexibility. He admiringly called himself “the juggler,” but some of his machinations also held a cruel edge. More than most presidents, as the biographer Conrad Black put it, “Roosevelt punished his enemies.” Stung by the opposition to the New Deal of Moses Annenberg, publisher of the Philadelphia Inquirer, FDR led a relentless effort to convict Annenberg for income tax evasion and sentence him to maximum time. Roosevelt ignored petitions on Annenberg’s behalf from Jack Warner, the movie comedian Eddie Cantor, and many others, and the publisher remained in federal prison until shortly before his death.

Ambassador Joseph Kennedy had done FDR no favors by blatantly claiming that Great Britain—the country in which he was stationed—was doomed to fall to Hitler, but Roosevelt’s bizarre and utterly insincere audiences with Kennedy during his visit home in November 1940, in which he lavished praise and sympathy on the diplomat, seemed designed only to make his imminent firing all the more brutal. As in Annenberg’s case, the movie industry played a supporting role in Kennedy’s fall. Speaking at a luncheon in Hollywood given in his honor by studio chiefs, the ambassador made his most strident isolationist comments to date, praising Hitler’s regime in front of dozens of Jewish producers and directors. Douglas Fairbanks Jr. reported Kennedy’s comments to the White House, and the president summoned Kennedy to his home in Hyde Park. Moments after he greeted the ambassador, FDR seethed to Eleanor, “I never want to see that son of a bitch again as long as I live!” brusquely ordering her to take him to the train station.

Such deviousness and cruelty, of course, are not uncommon in the annals of politics and leadership, and more than most leaders, Franklin Roosevelt might be excused for utilizing such means to achieve noble ends. Nevertheless, if we observe his tactics in tandem with his campaign to hide his paralysis and with his sensitivity to the power of mass media, such as radio and motion pictures, we sense that FDR was building new connections among the presidential image, political tactics, and the growing cultural appetite for celebrity.

It is particularly notable that while Roosevelt and his inner circle worked to hide his paralysis, they also relied upon his audiences—the press and the electorate—to willingly suspend their disbelief, to play along with the ruse that FDR really could walk and “stand for office” like any other strong leader. As Sally Stein notes, the public conspired with FDR to cover up his actual physical condition, engaging in “a collaborative process of dealing with the president’s lack of conventional signs of mastery.” In late 1932, when an article in Time magazine made a passing reference to the president-elect’s “shriveled legs,” hundreds of readers wrote indignant letters, and the magazine refrained from using such language again. It is difficult to quantify the impact of the public’s desire to protect Roosevelt’s image and to help him maintain the illusion of conventional physical strength. Although he faced some of the most adverse political and social challenges in American history, across an unprecedented three full terms and four election campaigns, the illusion persisted.

November 08, 2012

In the second of our excerpts from The Leading Man: Hollywood and the Presidential Image, historian Burton Peretti looks at how the relationship between the White House and movie stars intensified during Franklin Roosevelt's administration, leading to high-profile movie-star appearances and to more movies about past, present, and imaginary presidents. (Unlike Steven Spielberg, who held his new Lincoln movie until after the election, Hollywood during FDR's administration had no qualms about mixing past and present politics.)

The Great Depression and World War II intensified the escapist power of the movies and the voters’ tendency to search for idealized, cinematic, heroic traits in their elected leaders.

It is striking how much more visible Hollywood became in the Roosevelt White House. Movie stars, familiar to Americans from their appearances on theater screens, began to show up regularly at the White House during the Roosevelt administration. The main impetus was an annual event on behalf of a charitable organization founded by the president, the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis (which later renamed itself after one of its fundraising efforts, the March of Dimes). While the public never received a clear account from the press of the extent of Roosevelt’s handicap, they were aware of his illness, and the novelty of having a president afflicted by polio intensified press coverage of the disease and efforts directed toward its prevention and cure.

As a result, in late January 1934 a small gathering of movie celebrities at a Washington hotel, hosted by the performer and humorist Will Rogers, celebrated Roosevelt’s birthday for the purpose of raising money for polio research. Hollywood publicists then concocted a plan to transport a larger group of well-known movie performers to Washington every year, beginning in 1935, in conjunction with the president’s birthday. The performers lunched at the White House with the First Lady and attended a variety of fundraising affairs around the capital. With the exception of young Ginger Rogers’s invitation in 1936 to witness the delivery of a Fireside Chat in the Oval Office, none of the participating actors met the president himself. FDR instead attended annual birthday dinners, which were held the same evenings as the movie stars’ lunches but were attended only by government officials. From 1935 to 1937, when Roosevelt was at the height of his popularity, the annual Washington birthday event inspired similar events on the same night in other cities, to raise money for the fight against polio.

Owing to such Hollywood–White House contacts, Alan Schroeder
argues, “it was Franklin Roosevelt who first perceived the power of association waiting to be harnessed in Hollywood stars.” This power of association was a deeply emotional bond connecting Roosevelt, his family, and more liberal members of his administration with their most fervent supporters in the movie industry. During Roosevelt’s terms, the unwritten but long-standing American taboo that barred star performers from partisan activism was often breached.

Hollywood’s increasingly central role in American political culture was also evident in the first significant depictions of U.S. presidents—fictional and real ones—in sound films. Not coincidentally, these depictions first appeared during the depths of the Depression, at the precise time the nation looked to Roosevelt for leadership. D. W. Griffith had presented Washington and Lincoln as supporting characters in his silent historical epics, and his first talking film was a Lincoln biography, but before 1932 Hollywood avoided depicting real or imagined presidents; politics, in the main, was not considered dramatic. The Depression steadily altered this view in a number of the popular arts, as exemplified by the groundbreaking musical comedy Of Thee I Sing (1931).

In Hollywood it was, perhaps not surprisingly, William Randolph Hearst who produced the first, fevered cinematic portrayal of the presidency. Gabriel over the White House (1932) has long fascinated critics and historians with its story about a weak president who is transformed by a blow to the head into a bold, quasi-dictatorial leader. Walter Huston (who had portrayed Lincoln for Griffith two years earlier) enacts Hearst’s own thwarted fantasy of a populist leader unbound by legalistic restrictions, free to confront the Great Depression and the threat of organized crime with paramilitary squads and government by decree.

As the Great Depression eased later in the decade, presidents in movies were portrayed in a more sentimental fashion. The avalanche of Lincoln lore, unleashed in the wake of Carl Sandburg’s very popular biography, epitomized the back-to-the-land sentimentality of the New Deal era. It was manifested in Hollywood in the late 1930s films Abe Lincoln in Illinois (from the play by Robert E. Sherwood, soon to become FDR’s speechwriter) and Young Mr. Lincoln, as well as Frank McGlynn Sr.’s supporting appearances as Lincoln in many films. More generally, the leading director Frank Capra developed a passion for contrasting homespun, Lincolnesque American goodness with ruthless corporate power in a series of celebrated films. The most overtly political of Capra’s films, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939), was vaguely based on the story of Senator Burton Wheeler, who before his isolationist heyday had arrived in Washington from the Montana farmlands as progressive young crusader. Yet, as Michael Rogin and Kathleen Moran have shown, Mr. Smith muddled its political messages and obscured its ideology so completely that Capra—possibly by design—leaves the audience with only a vague yet powerful sense of pride in the little man. (Capra’s last political film, Meet John Doe [1941], is more pessimistic but equally opaque in its political orientation.)

Finally, there was FDR himself, whose representations in 1930s studio films still startle viewers today. The first FDR movie “appearance” occurred in the 1933 musical extravaganza Footlight Parade, in which the Broadway impresario James Cagney’s closing stage show “Shanghai Lil” evolves unexpectedly into a patriotic celebration of the New Deal (and the National Recovery Administration in particular). An audience onstage holds up cards to produce a large image of the president’s face, as martial band music explodes on the soundtrack. The scene is often considered an illustration of the fervent support of FDR by the brothers Warner, well known as the leading Democrats in Hollywood.

Darryl Zanuck at Twentieth Century Fox was another Roosevelt supporter, as was the director John Ford, and it was undoubtedly these men who ensured that the resettlement camp director in California in The Grapes of Wrath (1940)—the virtual savior of the Joad family, welcoming them smilingly to the clean and friendly camp at the end of their cross-country ordeal—resembles an ambulant FDR, down to his grin and eyeglasses. In wartime, Warners and Cagney revisited Roosevelt in Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942), an award-winning biography of the entertainer George M. Cohan, which begins with Cohan (played by Cagney) visiting the Oval Office and receiving warm praise from President Roosevelt (portrayed once again by a lookalike, but only shown reverently from the back). [Watch the scene here.] Zanuck then gambled the Fox studio’s assets on an expensive film biography of FDR’s mentor Woodrow Wilson, which explicitly endorsed the internationalism at the heart of American policy during World War II. These films collectively represented the apex of Hollywood’s favorable depiction of a sitting president and his goals.

November 07, 2012

In his new book The Leading Man: Hollywood and the Presidential Image, historian Burton W. Peretti traces the ways 20th-century U.S. presidents developed and mastered a “cinematic brand of leadership,” turning the occupant of the Oval Office, whoever that might be, into a “lead actor”—the star, in fact—in the nation’s drama. “Despite the heightened cynicism and divisions in today's political culture, Americans of all persuasions perceive the president through the amorphous yet familiar cinematic image that has developed over the past century,” Peretti writes in the book’s introduction. “It is an image we must understand and critique if we are to understand our political culture more clearly, and if we are ever to come close to realizing effective and wise self-government.” Over the next three days, DG will run excerpts from chapter two of The Leading Man, focusing on the earliest presidents of the cinematic era: Herbert Hoover and Franklin Roosevelt.

Whether he was politically strong or weak, a twentieth-century president benefited from the status he enjoyed in Washington society; the perception of the power of the office around his person; public relations, advertising, mass periodicals, radio, and the other machinery of modern celebrity; and the innovative example of Theodore Roosevelt, who infused his time in office with dramatic gestures, theatrical oratory, and evocations of aggressive masculinity.

The modern cult of personality, advanced by the theater and exploited by public figures such as Theodore Roosevelt, reached its apogee in Hollywood’s crafting of its most charismatic leading actors and actresses. Much of the movies’ power derived from what early Hollywood producers and directors were fond of calling their “verisimilitude”—their apparent, ultimate success at turning real sights and sounds into art, using real people and real locations—the ideal to which realist literature, painting, the phonograph, radio, and even photography had separately aspired but could never reach.

Herbert Hoover poses for “talking motion picture”

The movies, though, also exploited fantasy, creating exaggerated visions of space, time, and personality that often pulled the medium away from realism. Motion pictures’ precarious straddling of both reality and escapism, interestingly enough, was roughly equivalent to Americans’ highly conflicted feelings about politics: leaders and voters alike simultaneously struggled to confront ugly realities and to pursue seemingly fantastic goals of national unity and harmony, with the voters often putting their faith in politicians who made unrealistic promises and ran on platforms of utopian change.

As the United States struggled through the Great Depression and fought World War II, presidents and motion picture actors fulfilled similar cultural roles and increasingly crossed paths in both work and play. The presidencies of Herbert Hoover (1929–1933) and Franklin Delano Roosevelt (1933–1945) illustrate how the new cultural dominance of the movies affected the leisure activities of the chief executives, the business that came across their desks, and the evolving image of their office. Both men were inquisitive and alert students of their times, which brought economic distress and painful change to average Americans. Out of necessity, they looked to the movies for new tools and examples of leadership.

Mayer, like other founders of Hollywood, had traveled far in life. He left his native Ukraine in childhood, grew up in St. John, New Brunswick, and made an early living as a theater owner in Boston. In the 1920s, he was the head of production at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. MGM’s very name illustrated the merger mania among studios in the 1920s—a dynamic business situation that was certain to attract the attention of the Commerce Department. Mayer and Secretary Hoover assiduously cultivated each other’s loyalty. Mayer wrote Hoover in 1924 that he wished that all Americans “could know you intimately as you deserve to be known,” while the secretary of commerce assured the producer “that I have you in mind many times a day.”

Louis B. Mayer and his family visit the White House

As a Californian and as the U.S. Secretary of Commerce during the 1920s, just before he ascended to the White House, Herbert Hoover was well situated to witness the growth of the motion picture industry. Much of his perception of the industry was shaped by his close relationship with one of its most important early figures, Louis B. Mayer.

Mayer called on Hoover whenever he visited Washington, and Hoover reciprocated during his travels out west. During the 1928 campaign, Mayer sent MGM photographers up to Palo Alto, California, to take portraits of Hoover and his wife, Lou Henry Hoover, at their home. In the days before Hoover’s election as president, one of his aides reported that Mayer, “unable to contain himself longer, called me up last night to ‘bubble over.’”

Even more than his immediate predecessor, Calvin Coolidge, Hoover found himself framed by the lens of the motion picture camera. During his years at Commerce Hoover’s background as a celebrated humanitarian had already made his image an appealing (and often unauthorized) element in advertisements. His presidential campaign in 1928 represented a major leap forward in the use of public relations techniques in marketing a presidential candidate. The campaign was also the first to make significant use of movie technology as a promotional tool. Prints of a silent biographical film entitled Master of Emergencies, produced by Hoover’s friend, the journalist Will Irwin, were made available for showings nationwide. “WHY WE SHOULD VOTE FOR HERBERT HOOVER TOLD IN TALKING MOTION PICTURES,” proclaimed a billboard on the side of a truck that brought the film to towns across the Midwest.

Autogiro lands at White House

Hoover’s White House aides were in regular contact with the newsreels, planning access to events featuring the president. They arranged, for example, to allow multiple newsreel services to cover Hoover’s attendance at the Thomas Edison birthday celebration in Dearborn, Michigan, organized by the public relations pioneer Edward Bernays. On another occasion the newsreels covered the landing of an autogyro on the White House lawn. Various organizations wrote to the president asking him to film greetings for their conclaves. Others proposed starring roles for Hoover in non-journalistic productions. One filmmaker requested his assistance in making a series of short films “that will glorify the United States President.” White House aides declined almost all requests for the president’s appearances in such filming, but they did agree to let Hoover appear in Paramount’s inaugural newsreel, and in 1932 they allowed a filmmaker to plan a documentary about the president’s daily routine (which apparently was never realized).

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